#if not more. i feel worthless. i feel like a failure. all i do is worry about money.

[wilhelminyard]

part 3 of the foxes being brutally honest and insulting people to their faces because they are SAVAGES

NEIL :

"I figured he was an egocentric maniac who was so desperate for his own glory he refused to see the potential in anyone else"

"tell me you're not that stupid"

"I might have been a little more considerate if I'd known how stupid you are"

"you being an asshole at heart means I was right about your chances. you do understand by now that your cowardice is what's keeping you and andrew apart, right?"

"you're a spineless asshole. you let the world happen to you and don't bother to fight back. you let other people dictate how you can live your life and who you can spend your time with. remind me why you put up with your mother's abuse for so long. did you actually love her despite her madness, or were you just too afraid to walk away?"

"what do you think?" "I think fuck you"

"your false bravado helps no one" "neither does your cowardice"

"you already walked away from him once knwoing what riko would do to him in your absence. don't do it again. if you don't protect him now, his death is on you"

"die free or die a failure. the choice is yours."

"I'd ask you how it feels but I guess you've always known what it's like to be second, you worthless piece of shit"

ANDREW :

"is your learning curve a horizontal line?"

"a privileged child like you has never seen the real world"

"I've had enough of your stupidity to last me a week"

"I'm volunteering my opinion" "don't. children should be seen and not heard"

"you're stupider than even I gave you credit for"

"you have a problem wherein you only invest your time and energy into worthless pursuits"

"you're a different kind of suicidal. didn't you figure that out in december? you're bait. you're the martyr no one asked for or wanted"

"I hope you two are miserable together"

WYMACK :

"anyone have ideas on how to make neil look a bit less like a battered wife?"

"I can't tell if you're being obtuse to fuck with me or if you're really that dumb."

"I need you to derail that one-track fucking mind of yours for two seconds"

"great. kevin's turning into another you. that's just what I needed."

"get washed up before your stench kills me"

KEVIN :

"we need you on the court but not if you're going to drag us down with you. in the shape you're in right now you'd be a complete waste of our time."

"even if you'd stepped it up when I told you to a year ago, you would have no chance of beating them. there is nothing at all you can do this late in the year. they are better than we are and they always will be"

"stop acting like a spoiled child"

"you've got a thing for controversial teams, I think, but I like this one much better than the last one" "they're mediocre at best but they're easier to get along with"

NICKY :

"do you get off on being such a debbie downer?"

AARON :

"it wasn't the drugs that made him crazy"

"I'm walking away and pretending I don't know you"

"I want to drink and pretend I don't know any of you"

MATT :

"good to see you're still fuck-all crazy"

"one of these days you have to let me hit kevin."

ALLISON :

"you are on messed-up child. you come by that naturally or did your parents do that to you?"

"seriously you guys? it's like you don't know us" "we try not to"

RENEE :

"I tried taking you off his hands at one point. andrew refused on the grounds he wouldn't wish you on anyone except a mortician"

[spread-the-influence]

// hopping in again because 2 am is in the timeframe where i become so hyper on accidentally finding vibes like a nocturnal predator

. https://youtu.be/8Gopg80VXwc?si=j_vS5a5xUWvgiBRC

somehow sounds like t.i

// ASHES ASHES DUST TO DUST THE DEVIL'S AFTER THE BOTH OF US //

[chasingcoyotes]

I'm so tired of being depressed. it's never really been managed and every year it gets worse and worse. this is probably some of the most depressed I've been in my entire life. it feel so stupid saying I'm depressed, I feel pathetic. I feel like it's just attention seeking or that I'm not actually but I can't pretend I'm not anymore. it doesn't feel valid because I have a mostly good family

[smiley-positivity-potato]

The average person will always have worth, regardless of their gender. And today proved that for me, once again. Today I went to my crochet group and we all talked about things that have happened this week. Finally, once we went around the room telling our days, we got to a man sitting beside me. And his heart was hurting.

He had relatives equating his worth as a man to being only “a provider”. He was being constantly belittled by everyone but his partner for having mental issues, disorders and an unstable job history. They didn’t care how they made him feel because he is a man. And I just got something to say.

You are not less of a man for struggling. Whether it be financially or with home stability or mental/physical issues, you will always be the man you say and believe are. You are one that’s growing, unless you decide not to be one day. AND THAT IS OKAY! It okay for a cisgender or trans man to struggle, to feel hurt inside and to feel scared of their future.

You were born not just a man BUT A HUMAN BEING! And you EXISTING DOES NOT JUST EQUATE TO YOUR GENDER! These traditional values are not for you to uphold! You are still a man, regardless of what anyone says. And you are ENOUGH!!

You are not a loser, a bitch, a disappointment or ANYTHING! You are ALIVE!! And that is so much important than those words others spit at you. YOUR WORTH IS SO MUCH MORE THAN WHAT THEY SAY!! It IS!!

I’ve went through this with my first girlfriend who was emotionally abusive. We had went to middle school and high school together, but once I became more disabled after we met again: I wasn’t man enough because I was disabled. It hurt. But it also enraged me. I stood my ground as I told her she was rude AND wrong, but soon I began to wonder what a man is.

They are soft and firm and strong and weak. They are loud and quiet when need be. They are emotional and distant. They are all sides of different coins, just like anyone else. And them trying in this world, whether cis, trans or intersex, IS ENOUGH!

If no one has told you this, I will. You’re doing A GREAT JOB! You are VALID IN FEELING BEAT DOWN, HURT OR SAD OR SCARED! You ARE VALID IN WANTING TO SET BOUNDARIES AND HAVE RESPECT BE GIVEN! YOU DESERVE TO HAVE PEOPLE LOOK AT YOU, AND SEE NOT JUST A MAN, BUT A PERSON WITH CHARACTER AND A LIFE AND GOALS AND WANTS AND DREAMS!

Don’t believe or entertain the idea you’re not man enough. There’s no such thing. That whole concept was made to beat you down. Whether cis or trans or intersex, do not believe this narrative. It is meant to confuse you, hurt you, demean you and to make you think very little of yourself.

Here, right now, I need you to know you matter and you’ll meet people who don’t just sum you up as a failure. You’ll meet people who love you for you. And it will be wonderful. You’ll feel light as air! And that’s what you deserve.

I’m so sorry the world has made you question yourself for your gender. I’m so so sorry people weigh you against other men to try to show you that you’re worthless to them. I’m so so sorry people think you’re not enough.

But please know you are enough and you’re a wonderful man that deserves encouragement, support and genuine care. You are.

[fearthhereaper]

Streets saying Vhagar is drawn to loneliness, abandonment and sadness, which is why she bonds with Laena and Aemond.

Imagine young Visenya feeling all of those things. She's the oldest but she's the one no one really cares about. She's overlooked as a daughter and heir because Aegon is the firstborn son, and later she's overlooked as a wife because she's not as sweet, as feminine, as playful, maybe even as beautiful as Rhaenys.

She overcompensates, takes it upon herself to do everything for the family. She grows into a fierce warrior and dragonrider. She becomes a stern and unforgiving ruler. Protects Aegon, ensures his taking of the throne and yet even all that is worthless when compared to Rhaenys simply existing in Aegon's eyes.

And then a moment of ultimate loneliness and failure when she is incapable, time and time again, of giving him an heir. So when she gives birth to Maegor (maybe even by blood magic as it was supposed) she has to watch as Aenys is favored by his father because he's not just a firstborn but the son of the sister he preferred. Even as her son (just like she had) proves to be stronger, more capable, more dominant than his brother.

And all that time, all those years, Vhagar was loyally at her side. Her first rider's true feelings, the ones only Vhagar could feel due to being supernaturally bonded — they stick with her for the rest of her life. Her bond with Visenya was the strongest because Visenya needed her the most. Even decades after Visenya's death those emotions stayed an integral part of her, it influenced which riders she would choose.

I like the idea of her bonding with Visenya when she was around Laena/Aemond's age, too. (even Baelon was 15 when he claimed her) All those young riders, those lonely children, reminding her of her beloved Visenya. Laena who feels inadequate and rejected by Viserys, as messed up as that is, because it's been drilled into her mind that she needs to marry well even at that young age. Aemond who is forever cast aside because he doesn't have his own dragon, because he's not the firstborn, because he's the irrelevant one of all the kids.

It would explain her being fiercely protective of Aemond the first night they bonded, her killing Lucerys and Arrax because she feels Aemond's life is threatened. Her refusal to kill Laena because that's her little lonely girl.

Just Vhagar being Visenya's only comfort. And as such, becoming maternally protective over her future little riders.

[bloomzone]

2025: #5 CONFIDENCE ISN'T GIVEN

You’re not born confident. Confidence is forged. It’s earned when you decide—and I mean decide—to stop caring about what people think. You want to know why you don’t feel confident? It’s because you’ve spent your whole life chasing validation. You want people to like you. You want people to approve of you. You’re scared someone might have something bad to say about you. But FOR REAL nobody cares as much as you think they do. They’re too busy worrying about their own STOP GIVING SHIT

..✒️So why are you holding yourself back? Why are you giving other people the power to control how you see yourself? Let me tell you something—if you keep waiting for someone to tell you you’re good enough, you’ll be waiting forever. Confidence starts the moment you stop asking for permission to be yourself. You’ve got to walk into every room like you own it, even if you feel like a fraud. You think everyone who looks confident actually is? Hell no. They’re just better at pretending. And guess what? The more you pretend, the more real it becomes.

HOW TO BUILD CONFIDENCE

Own Your Flaws Let’s get this straight—confidence isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being real. Stop trying to hide the parts of yourself you don’t like. Everyone has insecurities. Everyone has doubts. But the difference between confident people and insecure people? Confident people say, “Yeah, I’ve got flaws. So what?” They own it. They wear their imperfections like armor.You’ve got to stop being afraid of judgment. You think your flaws are holding you back, but the truth is, it’s your fear of them that’s holding you back. Confidence isn’t about eliminating insecurities cuz we allllll have ones it’s about walking into a room and saying, “Here I am, take it or leave it.”

Get Uncomfortable You know what kills confidence? Comfort zones. You’ve built this little bubble around yourself, and you’re too scared to step out of it. You avoid challenges. You avoid risks. And then you wonder why you don’t feel confident. Confidence grows when you do hard things. When you push yourself. When you fail and get back up. You’ve got to start chasing discomfort like your life depends on it—because it does.Start small if you have to, but start. Speak up in a meeting. Wear the outfit you’re scared people will judge. Say no when you mean no. Every time you push through fear, you prove to yourself that you’re stronger than you think. And that’s where confidence comes from—action, not thinking about it, not talking about it.

Stop Comparing Comparison is the thief of confidence. You’re scrolling through social media, looking at people who seem like they have it all together, and you’re sitting there feeling like trash. Let me tell you something—nobody’s posting their failures. Nobody’s showing you their breakdowns. Stop comparing your behind-the-scenes to someone else’s highlight reel.You don’t need to be like them. You don’t need to have what they have. What you need is to look in the mirror and realize you’re the damn prize. You’ve got your own path, your own strengths, your own story. Own it. Stop trying to fit into someone else’s mold.

Take Care of Yourself and Let’s be real .. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re sending a message to the world—and to yourself—that you don’t value you. You want to feel confident? Start showing up for yourself. Eat like you care about your body. Move like you want to be strong. Dress like you give a damn. When you look good, you feel good. And when you feel good, you carry yourself differently. That’s not shallow—it’s self-respect.

Talk to Yourself Like You Matter You’re your own worst critic. You say things to yourself you’d never say to someone else. “I’m not good enough.” “I’m so stupid.” “I’ll never be as good as them.” Stop. Stop talking to yourself like you’re worthless. Start hyping yourself up like you’re your own biggest fan. Look in the mirror and say, “I’ve got this. I’m unstoppable. I’m the one they need to watch out for.” It feels weird at first, but fake it until it’s real.

CONFIDENCE IS A MINDSET

Confidence isn’t about never doubting yourself LET ME EXPLAIN .. It’s about showing up in spite of the doubt. It’s about walking into every situation and saying, “I might not have all the answers, but I belong here.”

Stop overthinking. Stop waiting for permission. Stop letting fear dictate your life. People will always have something to say—'That hairstyle doesn’t suit you,' 'Why are you wearing that?' Who cares? Their opinions don’t define you. You like it? That’s all that matters. Stop living for their approval and start living for yourself.You’ve got everything you need to be confident—you just have to decide to use it. So, stop sitting on the sidelines of your own life. Get up. Take action. Be bold. Be loud. Be unapologetically you.

the world doesn’t need another copy. It needs you. And if you’re too scared to show up as yourself, you’re robbing the world of something incredible. Confidence isn’t given—it’s taken. So, take it. !

@bloomzone 📇

[springwitch8]

venus, are you there? (agatha harkness x fem!witch!reader)

💜 reupload sorry i fucked up and i'm really sad about it 💜

summary: your patron goddess, venus, has been distant lately. you don't know what you did to upset her, but your life and your powers have been suffering in her absence. you visit the local mage, agatha harkness, about your problem. as you come to find out, it takes a special kind of ritual to provoke the goddess of love.

warnings: lesbian sex duh (18+), DUBCON (innocent!reader is really into agatha's "counsel" but oblivious to her sexual intentions until they're doing the deed), historic westview AU (before it was a suburb, it was a magical village), agatha's improv skills, no beta we die like lilia

notes: after much rumination on the AAA finale, i've decided that being a lifelong liar and diabolical villain can only make a lesbian hotter. centuries is a long time to live, and my brain has gone wild thinking of all the messed-up ways agatha must have passed the time. i imagine she had some fun with the women around her—giving them the attention and stimulation they needed, regardless of whether they knew it or not. gotta keep the bed warm between all the power-stealing and mass murder, am i right ladies?

"agatha harkness, mother of witches, watches over westview from her dwelling on the hill. any spell you can't cast, she will."

so the story went, passed around among the women of the village. if they were to be believed, agatha ran an apothecary out of her home, a one-stop shop of sorts for witches in dire need of guidance. the locals spoke about her with admiration, and the tales of her magical miracles were legend.

hardly a day went by without some talk of agatha's feats: how she unbound someone's great-aunt after the woman had been powerless for decades, or how she rescued a friend of a friend from certain death after a nasty broomstick accident.

---

venus, goddess of love and beauty, had been guiding you all your life. when you were little, you saw her sometimes in the flower-dotted meadow behind your house—a spectral angel, wrapped in pink silk with her hand outstretched to you.

now, though, venus had been silent for nearly a month. her altar was covered in offerings, none of which seemed to please her. you tried every trick under the moon to lure your patron goddess out of hiding, but nothing stuck.

with every failure, things felt increasingly... off. out of the blue, your jewelry degraded to the point that it looked cheap and rusty. you felt tired more often; your skin grew cold and dry. then, you started to feel venus's absence in your relationships. when you got into a huge fight with your best friend over a random misunderstanding, you knew you had to do something.

---

bouncing anxiously on your heels, you waited for agatha to answer the knocks at her door. there was something foreboding about her house in all its gothic glory.

the intricately carved door swung open and there she was, the fabled mother of witches. long brown waves cascaded over her purple-clad shoulders, wild tresses gliding over a silken cloak. you hadn't expected her to be so gorgeous. you'd always pictured the local legend as a crone.

"can i help you, sweetheart?" her voice was warm and lilting. you were almost too staggered by her darkly striking looks to reply, and agatha seemed to know it. her eyes sparkled with amusement, and the corners of her mouth tilted upward.

"um, i hope so," you finally managed before steadying yourself with a deep breath. "venus is my guide, but she's been ignoring me lately. all my gifts and devotions have been worthless; i still can't find her."

"hmmm..." agatha hummed in contemplation, her brows furrowed and fingernails tapping rhythmically against the doorframe. moments later, she ushered you inside and closed the door behind you. "what have you offered her? do you have a proper altar at home?"

"yes, and i've tried everything: fresh roses and myrtle, sea shells, wine, honey, chocolate..." you trailed off as you noticed the scenery around you.

agatha's walls were covered from floor to ceiling in magical materials and aids. she had jars upon jars of herbs, petals and extracts; woven tapestries of pagan deities and common incantations; various crystals suspended in place, arranged to form rune-like symbols; and a massive "death" tarot card in a frame lined with wilted flowers.

as you looked around her home, awestruck, agatha gently nudged you toward her couch. you sunk into the black leather and surveyed the coffee table in front of you, similarly cluttered with witchy items like candles, incense, and a cauldron. agatha stayed on her feet, pacing back and forth while she pondered your situation.

"how long has it been since you last sensed her?" agatha asked. you felt your face heat up when she turned her intense blue gaze to you. you could practically feel the power radiating off of her.

"about a month," you answered sheepishly, wringing your hands in your lap. a look of intrigue flashed across the witch's face and she stalked toward you. soon, she was standing behind the couch where you were sat, her hands firm on your shoulders.

"you're a pretty girl..." she thought out loud, and you squirmed subtly in place at the compliment. "servant of venus, and it shows..." her fingernails traced barely-there spirals on either side of your neck, and goosebumps spread across your skin. satisfied, agatha pulled away to resume her pacing. "got anyone special in your life?"

"i-i'm close with some of the other witches in town, and my grandma lives in the next village over—"

"not what i meant, honey," agatha purred and perched herself on the couch next to you. "who looks after your needs?" you didn't reply, staring at her quizzically. she tried again. "cute thing like you must have a gentleman caller or two, no?"

"not at the moment," you shook your head. "although there was a man who passed through westview a while back, a traveler. he courted me."

"and were you intimate with this nomad?"

"he only kissed me once, right before he left town. said he'd be back for me."

"how did it feel?"

"p-pardon?" you stammered, not expecting to be grilled on your romantic history today—let alone by agatha harkness, who grinned like a cheshire cat at your shyness.

"magic-wise, i mean. acts of affection can trigger power surges, especially for witches who follow venus... if she approves."

"i don't remember sensing anything out of the ordinary," you shrugged. "i wasn't expecting to feel a spark right away; it was just nice to be admired."

"i'm sure, but you're a disciple of venus. do keep in mind: she rules over love, not self-esteem," agatha took hold of your hand while she advised you, sending a chill up your arm. "i have a theory. when did you meet this man?"

"five or six weeks ago, i'd say."

"then it sounds like your goddess was displeased with your choice of lover."

"what, so she's just gone? i kissed the wrong guy and she gave up on me?"

"oh no, sweetpea, you just have to get her attention again."

"how can i do that?" agatha paused at the question, surveying the room in all its magical madness.

"do you still have power?"

"yes," you said, extending your palm toward her—only your magic wouldn't spark. it fizzled, emitting blots of pale pink, but you couldn't get your powers flowing fully.

"oh dear! looks like your magic's not flowing right. it's still there, promise."

"how can you tell?"

agatha narrowed her eyes and gave you a smirk that made you clench your thighs together. then she surged forward, cupping your face and kissing you deeply before you even knew what was happening.

agatha's kiss was hungry, purposeful. her tongue lapped at yours while her fingers sent purple caresses along your jawline. she took your breath away and set your body on fire all at once. to your disappointment, she subsequently pulled away.

"see, lovebug?" she beamed at the sight of you with hooded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. then, she held your open palm up to your light of sight. "you've still got it."

sure enough, the glow of your magic was there. it was weak, but it was there, swirling in the center of your hand.

"why don't you try lifting that spell jar over there?" agatha gestured to a small object on a wall shelf. "the one with the pink wax seal."

you aimed your palm at the spell jar and focused your energy, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't harness the telekinetic power to make it budge. you huffed in frustration.

"don't lose hope, angel," agatha rubbed your thigh comfortingly. "i know a ritual."

"you can bring venus back to my side? really?" you perked up in near-disbelief.

"would you be here if you doubted me?" she quipped back, forcing a conciliatory head shake out of you. "didn't think so. now take your clothes off."

"what?" your eyes almost bulged out of your head, but your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the thought of the older witch seeing your body. one predatory smile from agatha, and your mind was officially at war with your body. she stroked your cheek in mock sympathy, but you could see the amusement in her eyes. she gestured to the wall opposite you both, plastered with photos and illustrations of nude witches dancing under the moon and wading into the sea.

"precious few magical rites involve fabric, darling," agatha soothed. "it's an unnecessary barrier between your energy and the earth."

reluctant yet hanging on her every word, you relented and stripped for her. there was a pleased glint in her eye while she watched your body intently. you peeled off your clothes, giving her occasional anxious looks while you bared yourself.

"good girl," she cooed, watching you shift uneasily from foot to foot. your nipples hardened at a chill, and you could swear her eyes darkened in response. you blinked, and she was in front of you, her robes mere inches from your naked body. after another blink and a rush of purple, you found yourself in another room in the sprawling house—what seemed, at a cursory glance, like agatha's bedroom. "pardon the change of scenery; this is the most magically protected place in the house. now," she gestured to a king-sized, plush purple bed. "on your back, gorgeous. get nice and comfy so we can draw out your power."

"are you gonna have me meditate? or, ummm, astral project?" you asked in arousal and disbelief.

"sure, more or less," she chuckled darkly. impatient, she sent you floating to the center of the mattress with a purple mist. standing at the foot of the bed, she stared at you like you were her last meal. you heard a faint, sparkling whoosh and looked up to see tendrils of violet flying from her palms, a knowing grin on her face. when her magic latched onto your skin and began to stroke its way up your thighs, she piped up again. "can you feel that, sweet girl?"

before you could respond, agatha pounced. she caged your body with hers and dove for a sensitive spot on your neck. she suckled, and you gave a breathy moan that seemed to excite her.

she made her way down to your sternum with sloppy kisses, then turned her attention to your breasts—squeezing and caressing them while you both sighed in pleasure. her hands were rough and greedy and felt so good.

"is this, ahhh, part of the—" agatha cut you off by pinching your nipple between her fingers, rolling it while threads of her magic danced around the sensitive bud. when she closed her mouth around your other nipple, your back arched off the bed, and the three candles on agatha's nightstand spontaneously lit. you gaped at the witch above you in shock. "did i do that?"

"sure did, superstar. i told you this ritual would draw out your power," the older witch said with a smugly victorious smile. she gave each of your tits a kiss farewell before reluctantly parting with them. then, she planted a meandering path of energy-infused smooches from your chest all the way down to your lower belly. even the gentlest touches of her magic electrified your nerve endings, making you writhe under agatha in a silent plea for more, more, more. "oh dear, aren't you needy?"

"yes, yes please agatha, i need you to..." you trailed off upon seeing the expectant, self-satisfied look on the woman's face. the clouds of your desire parted momentarily, and you finally realized what exactly you were asking the mother of witches to do for you (to you). agatha had seduced you into her lair, reduced you to a begging mess. you decided right then and there not to hold it against her. "finish the ritual."

"how could i deny such a polite request from such a pretty girl?" agatha cooed before snapping her fingers, pinning your legs open with her magic. your ankles were bound to opposite corners of the bed by shimmering purple cuffs of energy. agatha grinned wolfishly as she situated herself between your spread legs. "alright, baby, just relax. let yourself feel."

you released a shaky breath and closed your eyes in preparation for agatha's touch. at the first stroke of her fingers through your folds, you felt magic crackling in your veins. you tried to stay on top of the wave of power that threatened to overwhelm you.

"goddess, you're dripping. that's a good sign," agatha drawled, her eyes fixed on her fingers as they lightly stroked up and down your pussy. with no warning, her pointer finger found your clit and pressed down, eliciting a yelp from you. when she began to draw firm circles on the bundle of nerves, you cried out, and the candles on agatha's bedside table rumbled like they were about to tip over. "that's my girl. feels nice when i rub you there, hmmm?"

"s'good, agatha, please don't stop..." you babbled breathlessly, your hips bucking toward her hand. agatha made a low growling sound and laid her free arm across your abdomen, pinning your lower body to the mattress. then, while you were still reeling from her manhandling, she slipped two slender fingers inside you. "oh!" you squealed at the foreign sensation, the sudden fullness. her digits probed your pussy, searching for something. you squirmed as her long fingers combed your fluttering walls. "ag—ahhh, i feel funny."

"i know, sweetie, just bear with me for a second here. you're taking it so well," agatha's free hand twitched and sent a bolt of tingling purple warmth to your clit, rewarding your patience. you gasped and bit your lip to keep from screaming. agatha wasn't even touching your bundle of nerves, yet you could feel her playing with it all the same. while agatha chuckled at your barely-restrained desire, her fingers found your g-spot. this time, you couldn't suppress a keening moan. "oooh, i like that sound. stay loud, lovely girl; let venus hear you."

she emphasized her words with a hard stroke of her fingertips against your special spot, and you shrieked. your hands scrambled for purchase somewhere, anywhere, and ultimately clung to two threads tied to the bedframe above your head. you didn't remember them being there before, but you figured it was one of agatha's tricks. had you opened your eyes, you would have seen the rosy color of the glowing strings and realized that you, not agatha, conjured them.

"are you close, baby girl? i can feel your magic pulsing and flowing," agatha whispered with a sultry wink. you clenched around her fingers and she cackled, pressing her violet-charged thumb to your clit and doubling the energetic stimulation there. you yanked at the pink restraints above your head and writhed pathetically at her touch. "if the ritual is true, you're about to experience pure ecstasy. say my name when you do."

it was all too much. her fingers twisted inside you and brushed your g-spot while her thumb rubbed vibrating, sparkling circles on your clit. a wave of white-hot bliss crested over you, and you cried out: "agatha!"

"princess," the older witch soothed as she continued her ruthless strokes. she looked around in awe as the room was bathed in blushing light, your just-recovered power shining in the afterglow of your orgasm. but agatha didn't let up. she wanted a replay of your precious, pleasured face. when you tried to wiggle out of her grasp, she scoffed. "don't pretend you can't give me another because you're going to, little witch."

she then ducked down to mouth at your clit while sneaking a third finger into you, curling to hit your most sensitive spots with vibrating energy. she took your button into her mouth and sucked vigorously, which sent you floating over the edge once more. again you screamed her name, but this time you also reached for her free hand where it rested on your chest. her fingers eagerly intertwined with yours, and your magic reached out for hers—a pink orb yearning for a touch of purple, charged hands held together by attraction.

"come back to me, superstar," the older woman coaxed as your orgasm faded. she smiled and guided your palm into your field of view. there it was, as if it had never dimmed: your power. agatha had fulfilled her promise. "told you so. i could have stopped after one, so that second round was just for me—you're stunning when you come."

"you... you did it. you got her back," you whispered in disbelief and gratitude. "thank you, agatha. i don't know how to repay you for this."

"oh, i can think of a few ways," she laughed, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "how about you show me what you can do with all that power, honey?"

you sat up and stared at her, confused. she took your glowing hand and dragged it over her upper thigh, exposed by a slit in her dress. you took the hint, swiftly using your magic to vanish her clothes just as she'd done for you. you waved her legs apart and teased your way through her folds, savoring the feeling of her arousal on your fingers. agatha huffed.

"that all you got, daughter of venus? not even gonna touch me witch-style?" agatha provoked. you sighed but gave in, your index finger sending a beam of pink stimulation to explore her from the inside. she gasped and bucked her hips at you frantically. smirking, you lowered your face down to her pussy and started worshipping her clit. while you sucked the bundle of nerves into your mouth, your hands snuck up to agatha's chest. you tweaked her nipples with magic-tinged fingers, and the triple stimulation made the older witch fall apart. "such a good, sweet girl... don't stop, angel..."

you kept working diligently until the witch groaned and pushed you away with a wall of violet. you sat back on your knees and gazed at her, dazedly waiting for any sign of approval. as soon as agatha recovered from her high, she caught you by surprise with a deep, heated kiss.

"you, my darling, are full of surprises," agatha booped your nose as she pulled away. "and look at you!" she cradled your hand and pressed her finger into the center of your swirling, rosy magic. "got your groove back. i told you i'd fix ya right up, and the ritual wasn't so bad, was it?"

"n-no, it was... thank you," you stammered, still reacting to the ritual. "how much do i owe you?"

"don't be silly, toots," agatha said melodically while she wrapped her arms around you and lay back. "i believe in karma. you'll pay me back in kind someday, sugar; don't sweat it today."

"what if she leaves again?" you whispered, feeling agatha's shallow breathing against the crown of your head as she snuggled you. she shook her head, and you felt her nose moving from side to side.

"shhh, sweetheart," she cooed, running her fingers up and down the exposed side of your torso. "that's what i'm here for. any more problems, you come to me. i'd happily make you feel good as new."

satisfied, you burrowed into agatha's hold and drifted off to sleep. with the object of her desire finally at her mercy, agatha was pleased too. she thought about her next move; she'd need to possess another man to pursue you and throw off your powers again. you'd probably get wise to it after the third or fourth guy, but what could you do about it? try to kill her? agatha smiled at the day's work and breathed in your scent, lulling herself to sleep.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [9]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 8 | Fic Masterlist | Part 10

Standing in front of the door to your former prison, all your insecurities came rushing back. Suddenly, your newfound identity seemed to evaporate, leaving you feeling like nothing more than a shell of your past self.

"What's wrong, my dear? Why do you keep staring at this storeroom, hm? You know you can tell me anything." Seonghwa asked in a gentle voice, sensing that you were far from okay. He cupped your cheek tenderly, urging you to meet his gaze.

Jongho and Eunsook stood anxiously behind you, waiting for you to reveal the truth to the general. Only then could they finally bring your family to justice for their misdeeds. The weight of everyone's expectations rested on your shoulders.

Please, mistress, just say it, and we will handle the rest.

No matter how hard your husband tried to capture your attention, all you could see was beyond his shoulder, where your family glowered at you. All the determination you had to confront your family diminished, and you were reminded of your true self.

Just a worthless, insignificant piece.

You felt undeserving of Seonghwa's love, too ashamed to confess that this pitiful excuse for a room was where you had spent your entire caged childhood. Would he still want you as his wife if he discovered the truth?

"Come on, my dear. Talk to me, please." The general leaned in, attempting to dominate your field of vision. He didn't like how you kept glancing nervously back at your family as if still afraid of what they could do to you.

Your husband's heart shattered as he gazed once more into your vacant, hopeless eyes. It felt as if he could never truly connect with you. Once again, he found himself lost, unable to reach you. It became clear that your biggest obstacle wasn't trusting him; it was trusting yourself. Despite all his efforts, your insecurities persisted.

Bringing you back to this place seemed like a colossal mistake, undoing all the progress you had made. The words Hongjoong had spoken to you were now pushed to the recesses of your mind, overshadowed by your demons.

Seonghwa's stomach sank when you averted your gaze, blinking your wet eyes with a shake of your head, "Nothing, it's nothing. I... I'm sorry, I don't know why I kept looking here; it's just an old storeroom, as you can see." Your family collectively sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding exposure. For once, they felt slightly thankful to you for not ratting them out.

Of course, it couldn't have been this easy.

Despite the internal frustration, the general flashed a reassuring smile down at you. His plan had crumbled, and you didn't speak up as he had hoped. The head maid and assistant couldn't conceal their disappointment at the missed opportunity.

Casting a glance at his assistant to silently acknowledge the failure of the plan, he squeezed your trembling hand, "It's alright, nothing to be sorry about. Well, if that is all, perhaps we can begin discussing the wedding arrangements then."

Minister Jang immediately brightened, "Of course, let us get on with it. I'm sure we have much to discuss."

With a subtle shake of his head, Jongho signalled to the private investigator that the plan wasn't unfolding as expected. Noticing the exchanged glances, your father raised an eyebrow, "Wooyoung, do you and the general's assistant know each other?"

Both froze momentarily, cursing inwardly at their lack of caution. The fake servant beamed innocently at the minister, "Oh yes, master! I thought he looked familiar; turns out we were from the same village!"

The assistant nodded along quickly with a wide smile, "Yes, what a small world."

Fortunately, the fabricated story seemed convincing, and your father nodded without suspicion, "Huh, what are the odds? Just don't let me catch you slacking off. If you want to catch up, do it after work."

Wooyoung grinned quickly, "Yes, master!" before bowing deeply. Glancing at the general for approval, he was relieved to see Seonghwa nodding lightly, silently expressing 'good job'. His heart raced, still finding it surreal that he was looking at his role model up close and being acknowledged.

Resettling into the main hall, your husband couldn't hide his concern for you. He maintained a firm grip on your hand, a constant reminder of his presence and an attempt to provide comfort despite your lack of reaction to anything. Eunsook, noting your distress, made a point to stay close behind you, silently assuring you of her support.

"Alright then, where should we begin?" Minister Jang clapped his hands together, eager to get it all over with as soon as possible.

Seated opposite you, your three sisters were still seething, their attention fixed on the general's unwavering touch on you. Refusing to concede defeat, they were determined to fight for Seonghwa, unwilling to witness you marrying their dream man in a grand wedding ceremony. He was too good for you.

She doesn't deserve him.

Before the two men could delve into any details, Jinhee, tired of her sisters always being a step ahead, seized the opportunity to speak up, "General Park, I believe I would make a better wife than unnie ever could. I urge you to change your mind and consider choosing me."

Jinah and Jinjoo scowled, feeling a sense of betrayal as they hadn't anticipated the sudden spiritedness from their middle sister. She had always been the calmest among the three. It appeared that the allure of the general was potent enough to pit them against each other for the first time.

The minister smacked a hand on his face in disbelief, growing tired of his stepdaughter's obnoxious behaviour. Just as he opened his mouth to reprimand her, the other two chimed in loudly, "No, I'd make a better wife!" before glaring at each other.

Pressing a kiss onto your knuckles to rile them up, your husband stared at the girls with an amused grin, "Really? Do you think you'd make a better wife? Why don't you each tell me why you think so? I'll consider it."

It was apparent that the general was merely toying with them, but the three were oblivious and engaged in a heated debate among themselves, striving to convince Seonghwa that each of them would make the ideal wife for him.

Meanwhile, you silently accepted your fate, believing that your husband was present to entertain the idea of replacing you with one of your stepsisters. If that's what he desired, who were you to object? You considered yourself fortunate to have been sent to him, and now that he had seen your sisters, perhaps he sought someone better than your useless self.

The general burst into a fit of vicious laughter, singling out the middle sister who promptly straightened up, "You," he pointed, "it seems like you have the most convincing argument. I suppose that makes you the most suitable for me, doesn't it?"

Jinhee vigorously nodded, "Yes, my lord!"

With a sly smile, he continued, "Very well, I'll consider marrying you, but on one condition that your father must agree to," Her eyes widened in excitement while her sisters clenched their fists in frustration, dissatisfied with her being chosen, "Anything! Just name it, and you shall have it!"

"If Minister Jang agrees to retire from his position and let me take over, then I guess I'll think about it."

Your father heaved a deep sigh, frowning at the foolish girl in irritation, "That's enough, Jinhee. Are you even hearing yourself? None of that will ever happen. I'm sure the general is only joking around."

Her stubbornness prevailed as she continued to press, "Father, this is for my happiness! If you loved me, you would agree to that!"

Even her own mother, finally sober enough, shook her head disapprovingly, "Stop it, Jinhee. Do you know what it would mean for the rest of us if your father were to retire?"

Having enjoyed the comedic display, Seonghwa chuckled darkly, "Your father's right; I was only playing with you. After all, I couldn't possibly marry you, even if he had agreed to that condition."

"Why is that?!" She questioned, still determined to have him for herself. She hated the sight of him cradling your hand; it should be her beside him. She had gotten so close to having him earlier that she refused to let the opportunity slip away so quickly.

For some reason, the minister couldn't shake off the ominous feeling he was getting from your husband's smugness. Something wasn't right; this felt oddly like a trap.

In a mock-innocent voice, the general answered, "Isn't it simple? Because you're not even Minister Jang's legitimate daughter; you do realise you're merely his stepdaughter, right?"

Your father and stepmother's eyes immediately widened, knowing exactly where this was going. Before they could do anything to stop it, Jinhee yelled out, "But I am father's real daughter!"

Gotcha, bitch.

Jongho and Eunsook did their best to suppress the growing grins on their faces, relieved that at least their master's plan B seemed to have worked out. During the assistant's time away from the estate, working with Wooyoung, they had managed to confirm the general's suspicions about the three being Minister Jang's actual daughters.

This revelation itself was enough to bring him down, as the three were born when your mother was still alive. And if they were, in fact, his, that would mean he had been disloyal to his wife and had fathered bastard children outside. This was more than enough to tarnish his reputation for good.

Rising abruptly from his seat, the minister cleared his throat loudly, "General Park, please don't take her words seriously. Clearly, she only said that out of desperation. The girl is still young and doesn't know when to stop; do not mind her. Come, let us take our discussion somewhere else."

"Save it, minister. If she isn't your daughter, where would she have gotten the confidence to voice that out loud? Don't make me laugh." Seonghwa retorted coldly.

Finally, you lifted your head to stare at the old man upon hearing the revelation. Could it be true? You didn't know if it was supposed to make you feel any better, but you used to question why your father had treated you so badly when you were his only real daughter. Now, it would make more sense, at least.

Scoffing, Minister Jang clenched his fists, "I would advise you to be careful with your words, general. After all, it wouldn't be too wise of you to slander your father-in-law and superior so carelessly like that. What would His Majesty think of you being unfilial and disrespectful to me?"

If your father thought that threat could save him, he was wrong; it seemed he was only digging himself a deeper grave.

The general peered amusingly at him through his lashes, "You know, it's really funny you should say that. Would it still be considered slander if I had evidence to back up my claims? Oh, minister, you should not have brought the King into this. He was already so disappointed in you when he learned of the truth about you and your dirty deeds throughout the years."

"Wh-what do you mean by that?" The minister stammered, visibly trembling in his spot, and his family could only sit back with terror in their eyes, not knowing what your husband had uncovered.

"Minister Jang, did you really think the King had allowed me to come here just to make wedding arrangements with you? I'd rather burn in hell than have you host my wedding, especially after what you had done to my wife in all the years she had been under your care. I'm only here for your confession, under His Majesty's orders."

A series of gasps rang across the hall as your stepmother and stepsisters froze in their seats, the realisation finally hitting them that they had been under scrutiny this whole time. It became apparent since the minister's suspicious behaviour at the assembly.

Little did everyone know that Seonghwa's investigative work had been funded by the King himself the entire time. The two had shared a deep conversation after the assembly; what initially started off as idle chatter regarding the general's new wife transitioned into a serious discussion as your husband revealed what he discovered about the minister thanks to your arrival.

Your eyes widened at Seonghwa's words, wondering if he had known all along about what had happened to you. Feeling your gaze on him, he turned to face you with a soft smile, "I told you I'd protect you."

Feeling your heart flutter and eyes tearing up with tears of relief, you finally squeezed his hand back, "Thank you, Seonghwa."

Cutting your moment short, your father shook his head in denial, "You're lying. Nice try, General Park. I'm not falling for your trick. If you were telling the truth, why would His Majesty have bothered to send you here when he could have just arrested me?"

Turning back to face the old man, your husband smirked, "Now, where would all the fun be in that? Of course, I didn't expect you to admit everything to me so easily. It was fun watching all of you panic in front of the so-called storeroom earlier. I hope you enjoyed the temporary relief, courtesy of my lovely wife. Someone, bring the minister a chair before we start recounting all the interesting things he's done so far."

Jongho was more than happy to help, "Yes, sir!" He promptly moved a chair to the centre of the hall where the minister stood before returning to his position behind his master.

Your stepmother and stepsisters remained glued to their seats, hearts filled with dread. Jinhee regretted her every action immediately, not that it made much difference. They were already doomed from the moment they delivered you to him.

"Will you not sit, Minister Jang?" Seonghwa teased, and when the old man glared at him, he shrugged, unbothered, "Suit yourself. Let us begin then."

The general stretched a waiting hand in his assistant's direction and waited as the younger man fished a few documents out from his pockets, "Here you go, sir."

"Alright, let's see, where should we start?"

With a devilish grin, your husband flipped through the pages, addressing the minister, "So, were you denying that these three are your biological daughters? Not to worry, I have just the thing to prove it. See, we have their birth certificates and the fake ones you forged right here. You bribed your physician quite a bit for these, huh? Well, it seems the amount you paid was not nearly enough since he spilt everything to us so easily."

The minister's wife pointed a shaky finger at the papers in Seonghwa's hands, "Th-that's not possible. How did you get your hands on those documents?"

"Ah, so you admit these are yours?" The general raised a brow, "I get it; it's hard not to when the only copies to exist were found in your private quarters, hm? I'll have precious Wooyoung to thank for these. Come here, boy. You should be so proud of yourself."

"Thank you, my lord! I'll work harder!"

In front of the minister and his family, the mole finally unveiled himself. All five of them could only gape at the new employee who had recently joined the estate. They praised him for his work and even thought of him as a hard worker. Suddenly, it all made sense why he always seemed too eager to help around. He had been snooping around for the enemy all along.

Your father pointed accusingly at the fake staff member of his estate, "Y-you traitor—"

"How can he be a traitor when he was never on your side to begin with? Let's not change the subject, alright? Now, let us conclude the number of crimes you've committed here; first, you've cheated on your wife and had not only one but three illegitimate children outside of your home. I must say, minister, you're setting a horrible example for the married men in all of Joseon." Seonghwa shook his head in disapproval.

"Next, you've bribed your physician to silence him and then get him to further commit the crime of forging official documents for you. I guess this could have been understandable if it had been a silly little commoner not knowing any better, but my goodness, you are our nation's Minister of Military Affairs! What would the people think of us if they knew their leaders were this unethical?"

"And the worst of it all, you kept my wife caged in that pathetic excuse of a room all her life. You all had a hand in her suffering and abused her endlessly, all for your own entertainment. And what had she done that was so wrong to deserve any of that? Just because she was born from the wife you did not choose and love?" The general spat, feeling his heart ache and anger rise.

It was your turn to rub a thumb softly over his skin to remind him that you were fine now; you were loved and cared for, all because of him. He tightened his hold on your hand, vowing to get you justice.

"Can any of you even call yourselves human?" He growled, glaring at your family. Your stepsisters trembled, avoiding his death stare, feeling like complete idiots, especially after their stupid little innocent act earlier. Why did they even believe for a second that they could have fooled him?

With a deep breath, Seonghwa put on a sarcastic smile, "And with all of that, it should be enough for you to be stripped of your title and for your entire family to be demoted from a noble house to commoners."

The old man's knees went weak, and he ended up plopping into the chair Jongho had placed behind him. Clenching his fists, he shook his head again, "No, you can't do this to us. You can't do this to me. I've dedicated my life to this job and this country. I have contributed so much—"

Smirking, the general cut him off, "Why? Are you unsatisfied with this conclusion? I expected no less from you, you ungrateful bastard. Fine, I guess we'll have no choice but to dive deeper and talk about your most severe crime then."

There's... more?

Furrowing your brows, you wondered what other horrible things your father could have possibly done. Everything that your husband had already listed seemed like a lot to you.

Your stepmother gasped loudly, clutching onto her chest as she took in the general's wicked grin, "He knows..."

Jinah frowned, grabbing her mother's arm in confusion, "What is it? What does he know? What else has father done?" The other two sisters stared at their parents, who looked scared for their lives.

"Yes, I do know, Lady Jang. Did you really think the two of you could keep your dirty little secret hidden forever? As if adultery and illegal document forgery weren't bad enough, you were both audacious enough to commit murder against an innocent person."

Minister Jang and his wife shared a horrified glance, realising that the veil of secrecy they had meticulously woven was now unravelling before them. The colour drained from their faces, and beads of sweat formed on their foreheads.

The mistress of the Jang estate stammered in fear, "N-no, that's not true! You're making baseless accusations, General Park. We haven't committed any murder!"

The general remained unfazed, a cold stare fixed upon them, "Really? You haven't? Then tell me, why do the two of you seem so afraid? You weren't trembling with fear when you poisoned the first Lady Jang to death, and you certainly weren't afraid when you robbed my wife of her mother."

Staring at your father and stepmother in horror, a wave of disbelief crashed over you. The revelation hit like a tidal wave, leaving you stunned and paralysed. The people you thought were simply cruel for torturing you all your life had now revealed a more sinister truth – they were the reason you never knew your own mother.

The shock and betrayal etched across your face, your eyes locked onto theirs as the weight of their sins settled in. It wasn't just about the abuse and mistreatment; they had orchestrated a tragedy that deprived you of the one person who could have brought warmth and love into your life.

"And what evidence do you have to prove that?" The minister finally mustered the courage to challenge the accusations, still putting up a fight. His three daughters, nearly as shocked as you were by the revelation, couldn't fathom that their parents might have actually taken someone's life.

Seonghwa remained unyielding, maintaining his cold gaze, "Not to worry, I have it all right here." He gestured to the documents Wooyoung held, revealing a series of letters exchanged between the couple all those years ago detailing the best way to end someone's life and make it look like a natural death, as though they had succumbed to an ordinary illness.

"Isn't it an uncanny coincidence that the physician confessed to the first Lady Jang dying from mandrake poisoning, and simultaneously, there is an abundance of mandrake planted in your garden? Alongside these incriminating letters, everything aligns seamlessly. There's nothing you can say to undermine this evidence, minister. Would you care to explain your actions now?"

Minister Jang's face contorted with defiance and anger. He took a deep breath before finally admitting, "Fine, it's true. I did it; I killed that woman. But you have to understand; the first Lady Jang ruined my life. I never wanted to marry her in the first place. It was a political arrangement forced upon me to please her influential family. They held more power than I did at the time."

His eyes darted around, gauging the reactions of those present, especially his daughters, "I clawed my way up, working tirelessly to reach my position as Minister of Military Affairs. I didn't need her family anymore. So, I did her a favour – I ended her unhappy marriage and made room for the person I truly loved."

He looked at his current wife with a twisted sense of affection, completely ignoring the horrified expressions around him, "I had to make a choice for my own happiness. No one understands the sacrifices I've made for this family and for the sake of my love. It was the only way."

"If you hated my mother so much, why did you bother having me then?" You finally croaked, voice breaking as you choked back tears. Seonghwa pulled you close to him, never wanting you to go through any more pain alone.

Your father let out a scoff of displeasure, "I never wanted you. You were just another duty to please your mother's family. When she died, I refused to let any of them near you out of spite. You were a constant reminder of her, a spitting image that angered me every time I looked at you. That's why I hated you so much."

His admission hung heavily in the air, each word cutting through the silence like a knife. Your eyes, filled with sorrow, met his cold, callous gaze. Your husband tightened his hold on you, offering silent comfort as the painful truth unravelled.

"And there we have it, the confession His Majesty wanted. Royal Secretary Choi, did you manage to get all of that?" The general called out with a smirk.

To the minister's horror, the King's closest and most trusted aide emerged from the entrance, flanked by a team of royal guards, "I sure did, General Park. You've done well; we'll take it from here. His Majesty shall decide the Jang family's final sentencing."

« Preview of Part 10 »

As Eunsook followed her master's orders to assist you out of the hall and to the waiting carriage at once, your husband stayed behind to express gratitude to the dedicated private investigator.

"You've worked hard, Wooyoung. I assure you we will compensate you for your excellent performance. You didn't have to help us this far, but you did, and I appreciate it."

The younger man enthusiastically bowed, "It's my pleasure, sir! I'm a huge fan of yours; I think people don't appreciate you enough for defending our country! Those who think you are heartless are clearly mistaken. If only they'd seen you today. You are a wonderful husband, my lord. It's reassuring to know Lady Park has you."

Clearing his throat, the general looked away and fought the faint blush dusting his cheeks, "I'm glad you think so. I can only hope she thinks the same."

Wooyoung grinned, "I'm sure she does, my lord. I've seen how Lady Park looks at you; I can tell you mean a lot to her too," Seeing Jongho approaching to escort his master out, the informant bowed one final time, "It was an honour working for you, sir. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you ever need my services again!"

Seonghwa nodded appreciatively, "I'll keep that in mind."

Just as he turned to leave, the royal secretary came up to him, "Before you go, General Park, His Majesty wishes to meet you and Lady Park soon to discuss your actual wedding arrangements."

Nodding lightly, the general replied, "Got it, I'll see you then."

"Oh, and one last thing; I know you've both been through a lot, but the worst is over. I wish you and your wife happiness."

"Thank you, San."

Y'all I'm not even gonna lie, this part literally gave me a whole ass headache LMFAO I hope this felt satisfying enough! Of course, we still don't know what consequences the evil family are about to suffer muahaha😈

Also, the second mood board depicting the general's estate is out! Go take a look if you haven't already!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[brighteuphony]

On the way back from Tea Country with Chakra-poisoned Kakashi tryna "casually" fish for some info before Sakura comes in with the one-hit KO on accident.

So she's got some complicated feelings for Kakashi as well, though they're a lot milder than what she feels about Sasuke.

There's a moment in my AU where Sakura goes through a deep reflection ritual, in which she has to face Inner Sakura -who is representative of all the ugly truths her day-to-day self hasn't been able to face- and come to terms with who she is.

During that time, she's got to face the music.

The music:

Sasuke is the last prodigal son of a clan that was brutally butchered. He's a genius with one of the most powerful dojutsu out there (that he has no idea how to use) and is coming in hot with more baggage than an airport terminal.

Naruto is not normal. She doesn't know what he is (as in-canon, she finds out after the time-skip and the Sakura from above is right on the cusp of Shippuden), but there's nothing normal about a kid who can pull wild orange chakra and who can fight Gaara's tailed beast and come out on top. He's got the personal attention of the Hokage, but the entire village has banded against him for some reason. He's special.

Kakashi is a war veteran turned Jounin and an infamous ANBU captain (I headcanon that some ANBU names are leaked specifically to generate a healthy level of fear/caution among other villages- which is why we know of Itachi/Kakashi/Shisui very publically) and is ALSO the last prodigal son of an old noble clan.

(No way a bookworm like Sakura didn't consume every publically available scroll on Konoha clans).

It doesn't take the big brains to figure out that he got team 7 specifically to help deal with Sasuke's trauma/teach him about the Sharingan, and put a leash on Naruto (and in the future, when she finds out that Madara was able to control the Kyuubi with the Sharingan as well as the knowledge that Kakashi was Minato's student it becomes even clearer why he got the Sasuke/Naruto combo.)

And Sakura? Sakura is a civilian. No clan, no dojutsu, nothing to her name except great chakra control. She's the literal meat in the meat-grinder of the military machine of Konoha, the acceptable sacrifice in a group of otherwise invaluable shinobi. She's just a...girl. (And it doesn't help that she was obsessed with Sasuke instead of training, furthering the gulf between her and Kakashi.)

Kakashi was absolutely not built to handle her- in fact, Kakashi has NO idea how to relate who hasn't gone through a mountain's worth of trauma or someone who hasn't been ingrained in the shinobi-as-a-tool lifestyle, and even then, he's not fully equipped to handle people who have (lmao Sasuke). Not to mention the man is a prodigy- he has no idea how to teach people who have to work hard to get somewhere in life. How do you teach someone if you've never had to 'work hard' to get there yourself?

So, Sakura understands that Kakashi was put in one of the most ridiculous situations of his career- a situation he had NO idea how to handle. She can forgive him for that. BUT, she can't forgive him for not trying his best.

Sakura spent a lot of time coming to terms with the fact that she rushed into the Chidori/Rasengan combo without a single idea of what she would do, but...Kakashi was a big reason for that.

She was HIS responsibility, and he fumbled that bag. Whatever his reasoning, whether it was to 'protect' her, or whether he thought she was worthless, whatever: he should have TRIED.

Kakashi was an adult with resources aplenty. He recognized that she had stellar chakra control but never bothered to teach her genjutsu or direct her to teachers who could pick up the slack.

And after the accident, he abandoned her again. Being forgotten in lieu of Sasuke and Naruto hurt...but she could heal. Being abandoned as some kind of martyr to Kakashi's failures as a teacher? It's gonna take a while for Kakashi to make that up to her...if he can muster the courage to face her.

Sakura finally understands why he preferred the memorial stone to the living. He already failed the dead, and it's easier to wallow in self-flagellation than it is to try and step up for the living.

Sakura stopped being a coward some time ago, and when Kakashi finally does the same, she'll forgive him.

Thank you so much for sticking with this wall of text! And thank you so much anon for the question! Once again, I really appreciate all the kind words people have been throwing my way. <3 <3 <3

[miley1442111]

(part 8) choices in hindsight- a.donaldson

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

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

summary: eleven years later.

(dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, loneliness, etc.

PART 8 of 12

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

Eleven years later….

You sat beside the umpire, your opponent smashing her racket in frustration as tears fell down her face. You were tired. Every bone in your body ached, your muscles were tense, your skin felt too tight. 

Your mind was worse. Playing tennis since you were a little girl does that to someone. Being in the public eye does that to someone, being alone does that to someone.

“You fucking bitch!” She shouted. “You fucking bitch!”

You didn’t care about it, the match was done, and you’d won. As usual. 

You hated tennis. You hated your life. Your lonely, empty life. 

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

“How about a challenger? To boost your motivation?” Your manager, Michael, offered. 

“I’ll do whatever,” you shrugged. 

Michael stopped in front of you, stopping you from walking. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine,” you plastered on a fake smile. “Just tired.”

“In what sense?” He asked. He’d always been able to see right through you. You rolled your eyes. 

“In the sense that I’m completely alone and I’m sick of knowing that I’m a winner while I feel like a failure!” You exploded. “Tashi and Art got married. Patrick isn’t anywhere near as good as he was. I have no friends. I have no family. I have nothing but a bunch of cold, metal trophies, and a team who don’t care if I want to play anymore. All they care about is my game. And I fucking hate tennis!” 

Michael stared at you, face hardening. “You really had to do that in front of everyone?” He asked. You looked around. Your team was around you, but so was your next opponent.

“I’m not exactly worried,” you snarled. 

Michael rolled his eyes. “Go win the match, then we’ll let you have some alcohol and you can drown your sorrows.”

“Fuck yourself!” you shouted as he walked away. 

“How can I do that when you’re constantly fucking me over anyways!” He shouted back. 

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

Back on the court again. Another subpar player against you. 

HIT. You’re worthless. HIT. You’re awful. HIT. You’re nothing. HIT. You deserve to be lonely. HIT. You deserve to be alone. HIT. You deserve to feel worthless.

HIT. Be better. HIT. Be stronger. HIT. Be more. 

HIT. 

“We have a winner!” 

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

“Come on!” Lily shouted from beside him, her eyes on the court as you won, yet again. She’d seen her mother do it so much she was turning it into a catch-phrase. 

“She’s pretty good, right?” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving you. He didn't want to let himself admit it, but god you looked good. The white tennis outfit you had on was practically making him weak in the knees, as well as the 'I don't give a shit' attitude you carried with you. You were simply leaning in your chair, a drink in hand as your opponent screamed to her manager about how unfair playing against you was.

I mean she wasn't wrong. You were the top female tennis player and you were practically unbeatable. You were incredible.

“She’s amazing!” Lily smiled. “When does she play again?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered. He had your schedule memorised. 

“Can I meet her?” 

Art shook his head. “She and mom have a complicated history.” Also, I’m still madly in love with her.

“How so?” Lily asked as he walked with her, hand in hand to the concessions stand. 

“Well, back in college mom and her didn’t get along because mom couldn’t beat her-” he started but he felt Tashi beside him. 

“You’re lying to Lily now?” She snarked. 

Art felt his skin go cold. “No. It’s true-”

“I beat her,” Tashi nodded. “Dad used to date Y/n as well, isn’t that right?”

Art nodded and Lily looked up at him.

“That’s weird,” she confessed. “Why did you break up?”

“I was in love with mom,” Art lied and kissed Tashi on the cheek, the entire display looking awkward and rehearsed. His regret and resentment grew everyday. He’d never regret having Lily, but he regretted everything he did to you, and letting you get away. 

“That’s gross!” She squealed, shielding her eyes from her parents kissing.

“Alright peanut, what do you want?” He asked, moving up in the line and getting ready to order. 

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

HIT.  Train harder. HIT. Work harder. HIT. You deserve nothing. 

The ball hit into your side and you groaned out in pain. “Fuck!”

You let yourself rest on the ground, not even bothering to turn off the automatic ball-throwing machine. 

“Hi,” a familiar voice smiled at you. Your eyes opened to find Patrick Zweig over your head. 

“Hi,” you mumbled, getting up. 

“How are you?” he asked, following you as you began to hit the balls again. 

“Fine,” you grunted out. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he smirked, watching your figure as you bent to hit a ball. “Very good.”

“Your dad give you a job yet?” 

Patrick’s fantasy was broken. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, not yet.”

“Too bad. You’d make a much better corporate asshole than the piece-of-shit tennis player you are.”

“Tread easy,” he chuckled, a touch of pathetic begging in his plea. You just rolled your eyes and continued on your exercise. 

“How about you go fuck yourself, Patrick?” Tashi scoffed from the stands, Art beside her. 

“How can I go back to that when she fucks me so well?” He joked. HIT. 

“Leave her alone Pat,” Art sighed. HIT. 

“Why are you defending her?” Tashi questioned, turning to Art. HIT. 

“She is right here in case you don’t see her,” Pat defended. HIT. 

“Pat we fucking know-” Art started, but it just ended up in Tashi talking over him to the point that Patrick started talking over both of them in the argument. 

HIT. HIT. HIT. 

“All three of you can fuck off!” you screamed. “I never want to see your stupid face again Patrick, Tashi you can stop flaunting that you got the love of my life, and Art, go be a dad or something! I don’t care anymore!” 

All three of them turned to you with various faces. Patrick was smirking, happy he’d finally pushed your buttons to the extreme. Tashi looked awkward and caught, maybe even guilty. 

But Art. Art looked at you like you’d hung the stars just for him, then tore it all down in front of him. His beautiful blue eyes filling with tears as he finally got to hear you admit that he was the love of your life, only eleven years too late. 

“I’m content with being alone, as shit as it is. I suggest you all move on from me now,” you sighed, grabbing your bag and walking off to find you manager. 

“See you at the challenger!” Patrick called after you. The ATP Challenger Tour. 

The same one from eleven years ago. 

Where everything fell apart. 

You got that familiar sinking feeling in your stomach.

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

[fraugwinska]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words

You were doing so well. So, so well.

Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.

But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.

It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.

You had done so well.

But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.

Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.

The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.

Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...

"Darling..."

You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.

"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."

He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.

"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."

You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?

"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.

"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."

A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?

"Please don't hate me..."

He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.

"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."

A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.

"I'm... so weak."

"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."

He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.

"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."

How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.

"You are doing well, my love."

[nezz-cringe-crib]

maybe i'm not looking in the right places but god i need more daisuke content why do i rarely see daisuke content and why is all the content of him either him being silly and dumb or him just dying. he's such a deep character just like everybody else why does nobody draw him with that same tragic air it's giving me kel from omori flashbacks </////3

daisuke has gone almost his entire life being told how much of a useless dumb wreck he is, that the only thing good about him is his physicality and even then he's still worthless because he can't put that physicality to good use. then he gets sent to this job that he barely knows anything about but he swears to do his best in order to make his parents proud and to prove that he can be a good son for them. AND THEN HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH SWANSEA MAKES IT ALL FEEL EVEN WORSE????

daisuke probably became really attached to swansea because even though swansea would constantly remind him of how useless he was, swansea was still taking a chance on him and teaching him the basics of the job. even if daisuke knew it was just because swansea was forced to, and even if he knew all the jobs swansea gave him were easy jobs swansea knew he couldn't mess up, he was still probably really happy about it anyways because of how much it seems like he's never been given a chance on life???? AND THEN FOR DAISUKE TO DIE BY HIS HANDS???

I ALWAYS SEE DAISUKE'S DEATH FROM THE POV OF SWANSEA. LIKE HELLO???? HE WAS PROBABLY TERRIFIED??? TERRIFIED THAT THE ONE PERSON WHO HAS EVER GIVEN HIM A CHANCE, EVEN OUT OF PITY, WAS NOW PRACTICALLY PUTTING HIM DOWN OVER THAT SAME PITY TOO?????? THAT HE DIED BEING A FAILURE TO EVERYONE HE'S EVER KNOWN???????

WHY DOES NOBODY TALK ABOUT THIS DO NOT LET MY BOY DOOWWNNNN

[echantedtoon]

Perhaps In Another Life

This is inspired by a similar post by @o3o-aya and I wanted to put my own take now. Zenitsu/Muichiro/Tanjiro in Gyokko's, Kyogai's, and Kaigaku's parts are left up to interpretation as platonic s/os or are 18 just for this post.

Summery is the reactions of the Upper/Lower Moons watching you run back to your Haishira s/os upon their defeat. Will stay sfw etc.

Warnings for yandere themes, kidnapping mentions, death, etc.

KOKUSHIBO:

He hadn't felt such clarity until he met you. Your unrelenting kindness and compassion towards everyone regardless of who they are or what they're condition was is what attracted the affections of the stoic and fearful Upper Moon One to you.

Even when you discovered who he was. Even when he at first threatened to eat you alive. Even at the expense of your own life. You still only smiled at him with your kind eyes.

Such things as this should not have wasted on someone like your husband who was his enemy. Let alone the man was blind. He could never see you for who you really were. Who you could be. With everything Kokushibo could give you, make you be.

It hurt everytime you cried begging him to let you go back to your husband. Promising him you wouldn't tell anyone else.

Perhaps that's karma for his sins.

Turning to dust and ash.

Watching you run back to your husband. The one who wouldn't ever see your eyes. Clutching his sadly smiling from as the Stone Haishira took his last breaths.

A scattering of longing failure etched into his soul. Perhaps in the next life he will have the chance to see those kind eyes once again.

DOUMA:

You would never forgive him. Not for taking the life of your sister-in-law. Not for taking you away to this cursed place. And definitely not for taking you away from your wife.

Douma sees what he's doing as nothing wrong and if he does he doesn't care. You are a goddess to him. A goddess he makes his followers worship alongside him even how disgusted you are by his actions vowing to never give him the same love and care he craved after taking you from your wife.

Which is why when he met her during final battle, he didn't hesitate to get rid of the object between himself and your affections. Funny how fate had other plans.

Those dam brats!

He wants to curse them out. Smile and laugh as he falls apart. But he can't. His decapitated body is melted far beyond his abilities. He can't even yell out to you to stop and come back to him as you run past. Kicking what's left of him over as you run into the arms of your injured wife. Hugged in a giant hug by those brats who killed him.

He finally knows what rage feels like and now there's nothing he can do as the world goes black.

AKAZA:

He never meant to hurt you. He would never harm any woman, especially not someone he loves like you. You were too kind. Too innocent.

He didn't think that Water Haishira deserved you. He didn't deserve the kindness and patience you poured into him just to make him smile one time at you after so many hours. Or finally hug you only when you're ready to give up! That wasn't a relationship to him! He'd give you the entire world on a silver platter to see you smile at him

Only you never did because that smile was never his to take. There was already one waiting for him and he happily ran into his fiance's arms as you ran into your own.

He loves Koyuki..but he's also loved you. He regrets looking back at you embracing your fiance and making you cry.

He hopes to be able to meet you in the next life to do nothing else but apologize and hopes you forgive him.

KYOGAI:

It's hard for him to hate you after showing him that he wasn't worthless. All he wanted was to be acknowledged by someone.

He never wanted anything more than to just stay in that comfort that you provided when you first wondered in a while ago.

That's why he couldn't bring himself to be angry when Tanjiro and you hugged like it had been years since you were taken and cried as he held you tightly.

He hoped you both would be happy as he could now rest with his art recognized more than ever before.

GYOKKO:

THAT BRAT! HOW DARE HE?! DAM YOU DAM YOU DAM YOU!!

The mantra is repeated over and over and over again in what's left of his mind as you cower behind the turquoise eyed Haishira currently slicing him in the fit of rage and spite only a spurred loved one could hold.

"Don't ever reborn."

OH he swears too! Even as the last vision of his sight is sliced to nothing, he vows to return over again and take revenge even if it takes a thousand lifetimes!

KAIGAKU:

He's greedy. He does anything to benefit himself and that applies to how much greed and resentment he would have if you had chosen Zenitsu over him.

This festering carries over when he turns to a demon, his greed amplified to the point he takes what he wants. Which was you. That puny, whiney little snake didn't deserve you! You don't need him! He didn't care if you cried over Jigoro's death and got angry if you even mentioned Zenitsu let alone beg to go back and see you again.

He fully intended to kill Zenitsu and bring back his body to you to show that you can just forget about him.

But now there was. Falling down to ashes and soot. Zenitsu had caught your form before you all could fall down and now you both were being carried away from him crying and clinging onto each other like a lifeline.

Meanwhile his own lifeline faded to nothing but darkness. Cursing you both and what could've been.

NAKIME:

(Sorry if her's is short. Im not used to writing for Nakime.)

She knew that it was only a matter of time after Yushiro took over her mind and Muzan exploded her to nothing. She had tabs on everyone including you as Sanemi clutched onto you and refused to let you go. One of the very last things she saw before she was no more. At least she could be at peace knowing you were alright and with someone you cared about.

HAIROU:

Many memories have been lost forever to Hairou thanks to the repeated battering he gave himself. But he'd never forget the way Shinjuro treated him, so what better way to get revenge on the Rengoku family than stealing his daughter-in-law from him.

Except falling for you and deciding to keep your for himself definitely wasn't a part of the plan. Even with how much you begged and pleaded with him to be let go back to your husband, the son of the man who caused him so much suffering. No. No he'd rather keep them suffering than to admit defeat and allow them any kind of peace of mind.

So when the inevitable happens and he's forced to live the new trauma of the copy of his greatest enemy hug his precious wife close to him and kiss away her sorrows, he curses the entire bloodline from now until the very last member takes his breath.

Im going to do a second part with the other moons next. Bare with me there.

[userautumn]

i think the only story that structurally makes sense to me in this episode is maddie and chimney's (excellent. perfect. 10/10, no notes) because lord, i've been so caught up in the break up of it all that i haven't even touched the weirdness of eddie's story because what do you mean this man has been carrying around three decades of guilt, parental expectations, feelings of failure, grief, trauma, worthlessness, depression, repression, religious guilt, self-flagellation, and suicidal ideation that are suddenly magically cured, NOT by intensive therapy with his therapist, mind you, but by 1.5 conversations with a priest and dancing around in his underwear. what do you mean. like, don't get me wrong, i know 9-1-1 is (allegedly) going to circle back to this (i say allegedly because the interviews have been really misleading this season, i'm not gonna lie), but from where i'm standing, it's like...

in season 5, it took eddie two episodes (5x11-5x13) to break down, and even longer than that if you count the fact that his trauma arc stared in 5x1. and we, the audience, actually saw him reach that point where he could not take it anymore. so witnessing that story, and watching him go through that tangled web of emotions actually felt like witnessing an authentic and genuine progression. but now, in this episode—in less than an episode, actually—eddie's somehow suddenly confronted his clusterfuck of feelings, has decided that yeah, actually, having fun IS the answer!, and now he's just? alright? HUH????? 😭 it just doesn't feel like a progression to me, and that dancing scene would have held a lot more emotional weight if it had come on the heels of seeing him actually wrestle with what it means to redefine his own happiness, post having that conversation with father brian. and i'm sorry, but buying juice or water or whatever just doesn't cut it! what a way to kick off a healing arc (sad noises). 😭

[inamagicalhallucination]

"Get up, Atsushi," Kunikida said, voice stern and sure. Despite them having been training together under the hot sun for hours, he barely broke a sweat. Atsushi, on the other hand, was laying on his back, tired and miserable. It made sense, Kunikida hadn't been the one being tossed around. Atsushi groaned, getting up slowly. He stretched his aching muscles and got into position again.

"Okay," he said, panted really, "I'm ready."

"One more time," Kunikida said, fixing his glasses, "and then we're done for today."

"Oh no," Atsushi protested, "I can do it for longer!"

"Rest is important, brat," Kunikida replied, frowning at him. He opened his mouth again, no doubt to start a lecture but Atsushi cut him off.

"I'm so close though! I can see it! I'm totally gonna get it this time!"

Kunikida huffed but if Atsushi squinted he could make do a smile.

"You'll get it easier if you're rested."

Atsushi lunged forward, preparing to grab and flip Kunikida over, like Kunikida had been teaching him. Just as his hands touched him, however, Kunikida had easily lifted and thrown him. Atsushi, motivated by spite and Kunikida's fond smile, pushed his legs off the ground, using the momentum to flip their positions.

"Great move, brat," Kunikida huffed, and then just as Atsushi almost beamed, flipped them back over, ending the match, "you're getting better."

"I still haven't won," Atsushi whined, feeling childish at doing so, but indulging anyway since it was just the two of them. Kunikida sighed.

"Come on, lets cool off," he said, grabbing Atsushi's arm and helping him up.

Kunikida was half way through his popsicle, and Atsushi was just starting his second, when Kunikida said, quietly, "It's not about winning."

"What?" Atsushi asked, tilting his head.

"Sometimes," Kunikida replied, "you don't win. But you still do what you need to do." And he let the conversation die with that.

/

Atsushi stared at his paperwork. He had been trying to do it for a while now, but his pencil wouldn't move. He couldn't think; he couldn't focus. He had failed his mission.

It had been so simple too. Atsushi had been confident, he'd been sure... and yet...

and yet, even at that, he'd been worthless. Useless.

A hand touched his shoulder and he jolted. He flinched and turned to look; Kunikida was standing there, a stern look on his face. No doubt, he'd heard of Atsushi's failure. No doubt he was regretting teaching him, taking him in, caring for him--

"Brat, what are you doing here?" Was that it? Was he supposed to leave? Had he finally used up all the good will the agency had?

"Er," he said, hesitently, "working."

Kunikida scowled.

"Office hours are done."

Atsushi blinked, and then glanced around, and no one was there. Just him and Kunikida. Oh. That was what Kunikida had meant.

"I just," Atsushi said, coughing and then continuing, "I just have a bit to do, still."

"You're hands haven't move for the past hour," Kunikida said, adjusting his glasses. "You're usually on top of your work, so this isn't an issue. Just finish it tomorrow."

"No-" Atsushi said, "I can, no I can finish; I just need to think--"

"Atsushi," Kunikida said, "you're not sick, are you?"

"No," Atsushi said miserably, hating that he was worrying Kunikida, "I'm just-- my mission--"

"Oh yes, I heard about that. Good job, you handled it all on your own--"

"It wasn't good!" Atsushi cried, feeling his eyes prickle, "I let him get away! I thought I could-- I thought I could do it; but I couldn't. I messed up. I failed--"

"You got the victims to safety, did you not?"

"I-I did--"

"And from what I heard, the cops were able to find the man soon afterwards."

"Yes," Atsushi confirmed, sniffling, "but I let him get away. I'm not cut out for this. I can't ever seem to--"

Kunikida's sigh cut him off. Kunikida leaned down, so they were seeing eye to eye.

"Sometimes what you have to do for your mission, and what the right thing to do aren't the same things, brat." Atsushi rubbed his face dry.

"You're mission was to catch the suspect, yes, but if you hadn't gone after the victims, they could've died. You did the right thing."

Atsushi sobbed, and Kunikida squeezed his shoulder and hesitated before leaning in more to give him a hug. Kunikida was stiff throughout it, but it made Atsushi feel better anyway.

"Seriously, brat," Kunikida said, ruffling his hair, "great move on the mission."

/

Atsushi clung to Junichiro as he sprinted, Kunikida's voice echoing in his ears loudly. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to go back and fight or die alongside him. But he clung tightly to Junichiro and continued to run.

Great move, Kunikida's voice whispered in his head. He bit his lip, trying to stifle his sob. Just barely, he could feel the phantom touch of Kunikida's hand ruffling his hair.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

connie vs catra: falling in love with a hero

so one thing in SPOP that reminded me of SU is when Catra gets upset and angry at Adora for needing to sacrifice herself in order to save the world. something very similar to this happens in SU where Connie gets upset at Steven for turning himself in to the Diamonds, so that he can prevent everyone else from getting hurt.

and i wanted to compare these two scenarios and talk about why this kind of conflict worked with connverse, but not c//a.

1. Past Relationship And Hypocrisy

Connie and Steven had a healthy relationship prior to this incident. Connie was always supportive of Steven and quite honestly, was one of the very few people who had no expectations for him based on his mother.

the Crystal Gems constantly talked about Rose and knowingly or unknowingly put pressure on Steven to live up to her image. Greg often mentioned Rose too, and while he may not have intended to make Steven feel pressured, that was the outcome.

Connie, on the other hand, saw Steven for who he was - a 14 year old kid who had way too many expectations to live up to. she served as Steven's rock and his connection to human life, letting him goof off and relax like he should. she listened to him when he was feeling troubled, and assured him that she would always be there to support him. Connie made Steven feel loved and understood.

they also made a promise to always fight together after Pearl tries to pressure Connie into sacrificing herself for Steven. Steven is clearly uncomfortable with this and doesn't want Connie to act like his bodyguard and put herself in danger.

so it makes complete sense that Connie felt hurt and betrayed when Steven decided to do exactly that and sacrifice himself to save her and the rest of beach city. it makes sense that Connie was worried sick about Steven after he surrendered himself.

Connie feeling upset about this situation makes sense because she actually cares about Steven. she always has.

meanwhile Catra constantly used Adora's fears and insecurities against her, even when they were on the same side and especially when they were enemies. Catra made Adora feel worthless for existing, she made Adora feel like a failure.

Catra actively and knowingly contributed to Adora's self-sacrificial complex and her habit of putting everyone else's safety above her own. and then she's surprised that Adora wants to sacrifice herself to save the world. wow. who would have thunk it?

Catra has absolutely no right to act like she cares about Adora after all this. and she certainly has no right to get mad at Adora for doing something Catra herself conditioned her to do.

it makes no sense especially because the show acts like the previous seasons never happened. neither Catra nor Adora nor anyone else brings up the fact that Catra was one of the main contributors to Adora's hero complex and her insecurities. the show just glosses over that and acts like Catra being upset about all this is tragic and sympathetic.

2. Expressing Anger In A Healthy Manner

Connie is upset but she communicates her feelings to Steven in a calm manner. she tells him that what he did hurt her feelings. she is obviously angry and upset, but she's also visibly trying to keep it together and not let her anger get the best of her.

i also think that Steven kinda messed up when he replies to Connie's "i'm hurt" with "no you're not". he decided that as long as no one was physically hurt, there was no problem. he didn't stop to think about how this might have affected Connie emotionally. (i'm not hating on Steven btw, he was in a pretty tough situation himself and was just happy that everyone was safe and alive. this is a situation where both of them were in the right and it was just a complicated issue to navigate.)

basically, Connie deals with this situation more maturely than some adults might have. she felt hurt and betrayed, but she didn't use that as an excuse to hurt Steven. she said what she wanted to say and then she left to give her mind some clarity.

also she does this AFTER Steven returns home safely.

Catra, on the other hand?

she screams at Adora, accuses Adora of picking favorites and pushes her to the ground. Catra is supposedly in her 20s at this point, and she still hasn't learned to express her anger in a healthy manner. she says once that she was working on her anger issues and that's it. we never see her try, we never see any improvement.

and then Catra just abandons Adora because “she couldn't bear to watch Adora sacrifice herself”. Catra didn't just leave because she needed some time to cool off, she was basically willing to abandon Adora and let her die.

3. Clear Motives

Connie's feelings and motives are clear from the get-go. she was worried about Steven putting himself in danger, and she was angry and upset that he broke their promise and her trust.

Catra though?

first she's mad that Shadow Weaver called her a distraction. then she's concerned about Adora's choice to sacrifice herself. and finally, she's upset that Adora doesn't like her in a romantic way.

two of these were very self-centered motives. it's hard to believe that Catra was just concerned about Adora's safety when she's whining about how Adora chose Shadow Weaver over her, as if this was some kind of competition. and it just comes off as the writers shoving in as many reasons as possible for the viewers to sympathize with Catra, rather than writing an organic conflict.

in conclusion, if you want to write a relationship involving a self-sacrificial hero, do it like Steven Universe did. make it make sense instead of shoving in hypocritical conflict.