#i see you game. i understand the psychology at play here.

[iggyfing]

didn't get any screenshots last night but fought zenos for the first time >:D

[starcurtain]

A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

[millyh23]

Ties That Bind

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Russo!Reader

word count:

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The sun cast a warm glow over the Arsenal training ground, a familiar sight for Kyra. She loved the feeling of the crisp air against her skin and the sound of laughter echoing among the players. Today was no different, but there was an exciting buzz in the atmosphere that felt new.

As she jogged onto the pitch, stretching her legs, Kyra spotted her teammate, Alessia Russo, chatting animatedly with a girl Kyra had never seen before. The girl was tall with long hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a bright smile that seemed to light up the field. Intrigued, Kyra couldn’t help but walk over, curiosity piqued.

“Hey, Alessia! Who’s your friend?” Kyra asked, her tone light and friendly.

Alessia turned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “This is Y/N, my sister! She’s visiting today, and I thought it’d be fun for her to see the training session.”

“Nice to meet you!” Y/N exclaimed, extending her hand toward Kyra. There was an infectious energy about her that immediately put Kyra at ease.

“Likewise! So, are you a football fan?” Kyra asked, shaking Y/N’s hand.

“Absolutely! I used to play a bit back in school, but I never really stuck with it,” Y/N replied, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “I just love watching. There’s something so thrilling about the game.”

“Right? Nothing like the rush of a match!” Kyra agreed, feeling a spark of connection.

As the practice began, Kyra couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N from time to time. She watched Y/N cheer for her sister and the other players, a radiant smile on her face. It was hard to ignore how natural she seemed, her laughter ringing through the air, drawing the attention of others.

During a break, Kyra approached Y/N, her curiosity growing. “So, what do you do when you’re not here supporting Alessia?”

“Oh, I’m finishing up college right now,” Y/N replied, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. “Studying psychology. I’m kind of obsessed with understanding how people think and feel, you know?”

“Nice! That sounds really interesting,” Kyra said, genuinely impressed. “You must have some good insights into all of us chaotic footballers, huh?”

Y/N chuckled, “Oh, definitely. You guys are like a soap opera half the time!”

Kyra laughed, feeling the tension ease as they continued to chat, sharing stories and playful banter. The more they talked, the more Kyra felt drawn to Y/N’s easy-going nature. She was funny, genuine, and refreshingly open—a stark contrast to the often intense atmosphere of training.

As practice wrapped up, Kyra’s heart raced as she thought about how much she enjoyed talking to Y/N. She felt a strange flutter in her chest but quickly brushed it off. Just a new friend, she reminded herself.

Alessia approached, her arm slung around Y/N’s shoulders, a habit they shared since childhood. The easy familiarity in their body language spoke volumes about their bond. “Did you see that last drill, Y/N? You’d be a great defender—watching those tackles, I almost forgot I was in training!” Alessia teased, her playful grin widening.

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughter bubbling up. “Please, I’d probably just trip over my own feet! You should see me at family gatherings; I’m more likely to be the one falling into the cake than scoring a goal!”

Kyra couldn’t help but smile at the easy banter between them, feeling a warmth in her chest. Alessia often spoke fondly of her sister, sharing stories of their childhood—how Y/N would cheer her on from the sidelines, even when she was just starting out. The way they looked out for each other made it clear how deep their connection ran.

“Seriously, though,” Alessia said, her tone shifting slightly more sincere, “I’m really glad you could come. You know you’re always welcome at the training sessions, right? Just don’t start giving me advice on how to tackle!”

Y/N smirked. “I’d never dream of it! I’d leave that to the pros.”

As they chatted, Kyra felt a flutter in her stomach, mixed with a tinge of anxiety.

What if they became closer?

The thought sent a rush of warmth through her, but alongside it came a pang of worry about how Alessia might react.

As they left the pitch, Y/N waved goodbye, her smile radiant. “It was awesome to meet you, Kyra! Let’s hang out again soon?”

“Definitely!” Kyra replied, her heart racing. As she walked away, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something she didn’t quite understand yet.

Alessia sidled up beside her, a knowing grin plastered on her face. “So, what do you think? Isn’t she great?”

“Yeah, she’s cool,” Kyra replied, trying to keep her voice casual. “Seems like she’d fit right in with us.”

“Right? You should hang out more!�� Alessia nudged Kyra with her shoulder. “Just don’t get too attached, okay? I don’t want you to steal her from me.”

Kyra chuckled nervously, but the thought lingered in her mind.

A few days later, Y/N texted Kyra, inviting her for coffee after training. The sun peeked through the clouds as Kyra made her way to their favorite café, a quaint spot just around the corner from the training ground.

“Hey! You made it!” Y/N greeted, her smile bright as she waved from a corner table.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Kyra replied, settling into her seat. “I’m looking forward to this.”

They spent the next hour discussing their lives—Y/N shared stories of her college experiences, her passion for psychology, and her dream of helping people navigate their mental health. Kyra felt herself opening up as well, sharing her journey as a footballer, the highs and lows, and her determination to improve.

“I can’t imagine the pressure you must feel,” Y/N said, her voice sincere. “You have to be at your best all the time. That’s tough.”

“It is,” Kyra admitted, feeling a weight lift as she spoke. “But I love it. It’s my escape.”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and playful teasing. Kyra found herself leaning in closer, captivated by Y/N’s passion. With each shared story, she felt a growing sense of connection, something deeper than mere friendship.

As they walked back to the training ground, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange, Kyra couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something special. But a small voice in the back of her mind reminded her of Alessia’s warning.

Don’t get too attached.

Match day arrived, and the Arsenal team buzzed with energy as they prepared for the game. Kyra was excited but also distracted, her thoughts frequently drifting to Y/N.

During warm-ups, Kyra spotted Y/N on the sidelines, cheering loudly for her sister. Y/N had brought a homemade sign, “Go, Alessia!” decorated with colorful markers, a testament to her support. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Kyra felt her heart race every time Y/N glanced her way.

As the match unfolded, Kyra played her heart out, but she found herself stealing glances at Y/N. Each smile Y/N threw her way sent a rush of warmth through her, heightening her confusion.

What am I feeling?

After the match, a win for Arsenal, Kyra sought out Y/N. She found her chatting animatedly with Alessia and a few other players, their laughter ringing out in the post-match excitement.

“Kyra! You were incredible out there!” Y/N exclaimed, rushing over to give her a hug. The warmth of Y/N’s embrace sent a jolt of electricity through Kyra, making her heart race even faster.

“Thanks! It was a good game,” Kyra replied, trying to maintain her composure despite the whirlwind of emotions.

Y/N smiled up at her, and Kyra’s breath caught in her throat.

Why do I feel this way?

The question haunted her as they talked more, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice it.

Alessia, noticing the chemistry, raised an eyebrow but kept her thoughts to herself. Instead, she leaned closer to Kyra. “We should celebrate! How about a dinner? Just us three?”

Kyra nodded, but inside, she felt a mix of excitement and dread.

What if things got complicated?

A few days later, they gathered for dinner at Alessia and Y/N’s home. The atmosphere was relaxed, filled with laughter and teasing as they prepared the meal together. Kyra found herself seated between the two sisters, the dynamic between them vibrant and playful.

“Just be warned, if you try to steal my food, I will not hesitate to tackle you,” Alessia joked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Kyra laughed, “Noted! I wouldn’t dare cross that line.”

Y/N leaned in, her voice conspiratorial. “She once tackled me just for a slice of cake. It was brutal.”

Alessia gasped, mock horror on her face. “That was one time! And I was hungry!”

As they enjoyed dinner, Kyra felt increasingly aware of Y/N’s presence beside her. The way Y/N animatedly spoke about her life made Kyra’s heart flutter.

She’s amazing.

Kyra thought, fighting the urge to reach out and touch Y/N’s hand.

When they finished eating, the three of them moved to the living room, where Alessia put on a movie. Kyra settled into the couch, trying to suppress the thrill coursing through her as Y/N sat next to her.

About halfway through the film, Kyra felt Y/N’s hand brush against hers, a light touch that sent shivers down her spine. She looked over to see Y/N blushing slightly, her eyes wide as if she hadn’t meant to touch her at all.

“Sorry!” Y/N stammered, pulling her hand away, but Kyra felt a sudden surge of courage.

“No, wait!” Kyra said, reaching for Y/N’s hand again. Their fingers intertwined, and an electric current surged between them.

Y/N’s eyes widened, surprise mingling with something deeper. “Kyra…”

Before either could say more, Alessia jumped up, oblivious to the tension. “Who wants dessert? I brought cookies!”

Kyra and Y/N pulled their hands apart, the moment shattered but not forgotten. As they turned their attention back to Alessia, Kyra felt a mix of disappointment and hope—

maybe there was something there.

In the days that followed, Kyra and Y/N found themselves growing closer, their moments filled with laughter and shared experiences. They began spending more time together outside of training, exploring the city and enjoying each other’s company.

One evening, while walking through a park, the sun setting behind them, Kyra felt a rush of emotions. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Of course! What’s on your mind?” Y/N replied, her expression open and inviting.

“What do you think about… relationships?” Kyra hesitated, the weight of her feelings pressing down on her.

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Well, they can be complicated but also amazing. Why?”

“I… I think I might like you more than just friends,” Kyra confessed, her heart racing as she spoke the words.

Y/N’s eyes widened, her surprise palpable. “You do?”

“Yeah, and I know it might be weird since we’re friends and I’m friends with your sister, but—”

“It’s not weird,” Y/N interrupted, her voice steady. “I like you too, Kyra. I’ve felt this connection since we first met.”

Kyra’s heart soared. “Really? I thought I was being ridiculous!”

“No! Not at all!” Y/N said, her smile brightening. “I’ve been hoping you’d say something.”

As they stood there, the world around them faded away, and Kyra felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over her. They leaned closer, sharing a tentative kiss, their lips brushing softly before deepening into something warm and sweet.

When they pulled back, Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Wow, that was nice.”

“Yeah, it was,” Kyra replied, her heart racing.

However, amidst the growing excitement of their relationship, Kyra couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety.

What would Alessia think?

One evening, while the three of them were watching a movie, Kyra felt the tension building inside her. “Alessia, can we talk?”

“Sure! What’s up?” Alessia replied, her brow furrowing slightly.

Kyra took a deep breath. “So, Y/N and I… we’re kind of seeing each other now.”

Alessia’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened with understanding. “Oh! Wow, I didn’t see that coming, but I’m happy for you both! Just be careful, okay?”

“Thanks, Alessia. I just didn’t want to hide it from you,” Kyra said, relief washing over her.

Y/N chimed in, “I’m glad we told you. I hope it doesn’t change anything between us.”

Alessia smiled warmly. “Not at all! Just don’t expect me to choose sides if you two get into an argument!”

As they laughed, Kyra felt a wave of happiness wash over her, feeling supported and accepted.

However, as the days turned into weeks, Kyra noticed a shift in Y/N’s mood. She seemed more reserved, and Kyra couldn’t help but worry. One evening, as they sat together, Kyra decided to address it.

“Y/N, is everything okay? You seem a bit off lately,” Kyra said, concern lacing her voice.

Y/N sighed, her eyes downcast. “I’m just worried about how this affects my relationship with Alessia. I don’t want to come between you two.”

“Y/N, you’re not coming between us,” Kyra reassured her, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “Alessia supports us. This is something special, and it’s okay to embrace it.”

“I know, but it’s a lot to navigate. I don’t want to lose my sister or you,” Y/N admitted, her vulnerability shining through.

“You won’t lose either of us. We’ll figure this out together,” Kyra promised, squeezing Y/N’s hands tighter.

As they talked, Kyra felt a sense of determination to support Y/N. They would face the challenges together, no matter what.

Over the next few weeks, Kyra and Y/N worked on finding balance in their relationship. They supported each other in their individual pursuits, attending matches and helping each other through training challenges.

One day, after a particularly grueling training session, Y/N surprised Kyra with a picnic in the park. “I thought we could use a break,” Y/N said, spreading out a blanket under a tree.

“This is amazing!” Kyra exclaimed, her heart swelling with affection as they settled down.

As they enjoyed their meal, Y/N smiled shyly. “I’m really happy we’re doing this. I feel like I can be myself around you.”

“You can always be yourself with me,” Kyra replied, her tone earnest. “That’s what I love about us.”

Y/N looked thoughtful for a moment, then asked, “Do you ever worry about how this will affect your career?”

“I do sometimes, but I know what I want,” Kyra admitted, meeting Y/N’s gaze. “I want to support you and be there for you.”

Their conversation flowed seamlessly, filled with laughter and affection. But as the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the park, a weight settled over Kyra’s heart.

As the season progressed, Kyra’s performance on the pitch soared, but the pressure began to mount. The media was buzzing with rumors, and Kyra felt the weight of expectations bearing down on her.

One day, after a particularly difficult training session, Kyra found herself snapping at Y/N over a small mistake. “Can you just focus for once? This isn’t a game!” she blurted out, frustration boiling over.

Y/N’s expression fell, hurt flashing across her face. “I am focusing, Kyra! I’m here to support you, not to make things harder.”

Kyra immediately regretted her words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just stressed.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I get that, but I need you to communicate with me. I want to help, but you have to let me in.”

“Please don’t shut me out,” Kyra pleaded, her heart aching at the sight of Y/N’s hurt expression.

They stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, Y/N spoke softly, “I just want us to be okay.”

“We will be,” Kyra promised, pulling Y/N into a gentle embrace. “I’m sorry for taking my stress out on you.”

As time passed, Kyra and Y/N worked hard to communicate openly and honestly. Their bond deepened, filled with moments of vulnerability and understanding.

One night, after a successful match where Kyra scored the winning goal, they celebrated together. Y/N’s face lit up with pride as she hugged Kyra tightly. “I’m so proud of you! You were incredible out there!”

“Thanks! I couldn’t have done it without your support,” Kyra said, grinning from ear to ear.

They danced around the living room, lost in their joy and laughter. But as the excitement faded, a moment of stillness settled between them.

“Kyra, I’ve been thinking,” Y/N said, her expression serious. “What happens if things get tough again? We’ve been doing well, but I worry about the future.”

“Me too,” Kyra admitted, feeling the weight of Y/N’s concerns. “But we can face it together. I want to be with you, no matter what challenges come our way.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding her features. “Okay. Together.”

As they shared a kiss, a sense of determination filled the air, a promise that they would continue to fight for each other, no matter what obstacles lay ahead.

However, just as they settled into a rhythm, a sudden twist sent their world spiraling. A rumor surfaced in the media about a potential transfer for Kyra, stirring uncertainty within their relationship.

Y/N confronted Kyra one evening,

her voice trembling. “Is it true? Are you thinking about leaving?”

Kyra felt her heart drop. “Y/N, it’s just a rumor. I don’t want to go anywhere. You mean too much to me.”

“But what if it’s not just a rumor? What if you get an offer and…?”

“Y/N, stop!” Kyra interrupted, frustration creeping in. “You’re letting your insecurities get the best of you. I’m not leaving you.”

“But what if you have to choose between your career and me?” Y/N challenged, her eyes filled with fear.

“Why do we have to make it a choice?” Kyra asked, desperation tinging her voice. “We can make this work, no matter where I go!”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be the reason you miss out on your dreams.”

“Being with you is part of my dream, Y/N!” Kyra pleaded, reaching for Y/N’s hand. “Please believe that.”

But Y/N turned away, her heart heavy with uncertainty. “I need some space,” she whispered before walking out.

In the days that followed, the distance between them grew unbearable. Kyra threw herself into training, trying to drown out the pain of losing Y/N.

But every goal she scored felt hollow without Y/N by her side. One evening, after a particularly rough training session, she broke down, her teammates rallying around her.

“Kyra, you need to talk to Y/N,” Alessia urged, her voice firm. “You can’t let this distance linger.”

“I know, but I don’t want to push her away further,” Kyra replied, her voice cracking.

“You won’t know unless you try. Go find her,” Alessia encouraged, her eyes filled with determination.

With her heart pounding, Kyra made her way to Y/N’s apartment. She knocked hesitantly, fear coursing through her veins. When Y/N opened the door, Kyra’s breath caught in her throat.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she began, her voice trembling. “I never meant to hurt you. Can we talk?”

Y/N stepped aside, allowing Kyra to enter. The silence hung heavy as they settled into the living room.

“I’ve missed you,” Kyra confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve missed you too, but I’ve been confused,” Y/N admitted, her gaze shifting to the floor. “I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” Kyra replied, desperation lacing her words. “You’re my support, my everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

“But what if it becomes too complicated?” Y/N challenged, her voice shaky.

“Complications are part of relationships,” Kyra said earnestly. “But I believe we can work through anything together. I want you in my life, Y/N.”

Y/N looked up, her eyes glistening with emotion. “Really?”

“Yes! I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” Kyra vowed, stepping closer to Y/N.

Tears brimmed in Y/N’s eyes as she nodded slowly. “I want to believe you.”

“Then let me show you,” Kyra whispered, wrapping her arms around Y/N and pulling her into a tight embrace.

As they held each other, the warmth of their connection seeped back in, washing away the tension that had built between them.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Y/N murmured against Kyra’s shoulder. “I was scared.”

“I understand, and I’m sorry for the rumors. But I want to face this together,” Kyra replied, pulling back to look Y/N in the eye. “You mean too much to me.”

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart swelling with affection. “You really mean it?”

“Of course. I care about you more than anything,” Kyra affirmed, cupping Y/N’s face in her hands.

With a tentative smile, Y/N leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. As they pulled back, Kyra felt a sense of hope blooming inside her.

“Let’s take it one day at a time,” Y/N suggested, her voice filled with determination.

“I’m all in,” Kyra replied, a grin spreading across her face.

In the weeks that followed, Kyra and Y/N found their rhythm again. They communicated openly, sharing their fears and dreams without hesitation.

One evening, as they stargazed on a rooftop, Kyra turned to Y/N, a sense of contentment washing over her. “I’m so grateful for you.”

“Me too,” Y/N replied, resting her head on Kyra’s shoulder. “I never want to go through that distance again.”

“Neither do I,” Kyra agreed, wrapping her arm around Y/N protectively. “We’re stronger together.”

As they sat in silence, the weight of their struggles began to lift, replaced by a sense of clarity. They could face whatever challenges lay ahead, as long as they had each other.

And in that moment, under the vast expanse of the starry sky, Kyra realized that their love was worth fighting for.

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

The End

[hoe4hotchner]

idk if i have alr requested this but aaron hotchner x unsub!reader ??

Under his skin | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Unsub!Reader

CW: psychological manipulation, power dynamics, implied violence, implied murder, interrogation, mind games

WC: 1.7k

Summary: Hotch finally captures you, but as the interrogation unfolds, it becomes clear the real game has only just begun, blurring the lines between right and wrong.

           The tension in the air was palpable as Agent Hotchner entered the dimly lit interrogation room. He stood tall, his presence commanding, his eyes fixed on you, he had been hunting you for months. You sat at the metal table, wrists shackled, your expression calm. Still, your eyes held a defiance that matched the intensity of the control in his.

           "You've been hard to find," Hotch said, his voice low, each word measured. He circled the table, never breaking eye contact, the weight of his authority pressing down on the room. "But it's over now."

           A slow, knowing smile crept across your lips, not in submission but in challenge. "You think you’ve won, don’t you, Agent Hotchner?" you murmured, your tone laced with mockery. "But you don’t understand, do you? You were never in control. Not once."

           Hotch stopped behind you, his jaw clenching as he resisted the urge to react. He’d dealt with killers before - manipulative and dangerous minds who thrived on power games - but you were different. There was something about you that got under his skin, something that blurred the line between hatred and… something else.

           He leaned down slightly, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "I understand more than you think," he whispered. "I know what drives you."

           Your pulse quickened, but you refused to show it. You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze from the corner of your eye, your smirk never faltering. "And what is that, Agent Hotchner?"

           "Fear," he said, his voice steady, his eyes searching yours. "You're terrified. That’s why you keep pushing, keep running, keep killing."

           You straightened in your seat, your composure cracking for just a moment before you masked it again with a cold laugh. "You don’t know anything about me."

           Hotch moved around to the front of the table, placing his hands on its surface as he leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. "I know you better than you think," he said softly, his eyes narrowing. "You wanted me to catch you, didn’t you?"

           Your smirk faded, replaced by something darker, something rawer. The truth of his words hung in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt the weight of the game you’d been playing. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. Not yet.

           "You really think this is over?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

           Hotch’s eyes hardened, his jaw tightening. "It’s over."

           But even as he said the words, there was an unspoken understanding between you, a pull that neither of you could ignore. Enemies. Opposites. Yet, somehow, connected by something far deeper than either of you was willing to admit.

           Hotch stood still, watching you for any sign of weakness, any crack in the armor you wore so expertly. But there was something in your gaze, something he couldn’t place. He had chased you for months, relentlessly unraveling the puzzle you’d left behind, but now, sitting across from you, he felt it - the undeniable pull that shouldn’t exist between foes.

           You leaned back in the chair, your posture relaxed but your eyes burning with an intensity that made his stomach twist. "You say it’s over," you repeated softly, "but is it? Really?"

           Hotch didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Instead, he sat down across from you, his eyes narrowing as he studied your every move. There was a strange calmness in the air, a stillness that shouldn’t exist between hunter and prey, but here it was. And Hotch hated it. He hated how you affected him, how, even now, with your wrists bound in cuffs, you still had power over him.

           "You wanted this," he said quietly, his voice a low growl as if he was trying to convince himself that he was right. "You wanted me to find you."

           You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Maybe I did," you admitted, your voice was like silk. "Maybe I’ve been playing you all along."

           He should be angry. Furious. But instead, there was something else simmering beneath the surface - something that had been growing since the first time your paths crossed. Something that blurred the line between hate and fascination.

           Hotch leaned in, his eyes locked on yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Why?" he demanded. "What do you want from me?"

           You held his gaze, the challenge in your eyes unwavering. "Maybe I wanted to see if you could catch me. Maybe I wanted to know if you were as good as everyone said you were."

           He shook his head, not buying into your game. "That’s not it," he said firmly. "You’re too smart for that."

           You let out a soft laugh, leaning forward slightly, closing the distance between you. "Maybe I just wanted to see you up close, Aaron."

           Hearing his first name fall from your lips made his blood run cold and hot all at once. He had heard it a thousand times from friends, colleagues, and family, but from you, it felt… intimate, wrong even.

           "You don’t get to call me that," he said, his voice strained.

           "Why not?" you asked, your voice almost playful. "You’ve been chasing me for months. You know me better than anyone."

           "You’re a killer," Hotch said, his tone sharp.

           "And yet, here we are," you whispered, your eyes darkened, daring him to admit the connection neither of you wanted to face. "Maybe you’re not as different from me as you think."

           Hotch’s jaw clenched. He wanted to refute your words, to tell you that you were nothing alike, but something stopped him. Deep down, beneath the layers of righteousness and duty, he felt it too. The same darkness that fueled you had touched him as well, shaped him in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge.

           He stood abruptly, pushing his chair back as if to create distance, both physically and emotionally. "This ends here," he said, his voice hard, though it trembled slightly.

           You smiled, slow and taunting, as you watched him struggle with the truth he didn’t want to face. "We both know that’s a lie, Aaron."

           He turned on his heel, refusing to look at you as he headed for the door, but your words lingered in the air, heavy and unshakable. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

           Hotch stopped just shy of the door, his hand hovering over the handle as your words echoed in his mind. The venomous sweetness in the way you said his name, the way you pushed, prodded at parts of him he kept buried deep - he hated that you could get under his skin so easily.

           "I know you feel it too," you called softly from behind him, your voice echoing in the stark interrogation room. "That pull… it's what kept you chasing me."

           He hesitated, fingers tightening around the cold handle. His body was rigid, but every nerve in him was taut, strained to the breaking point. "You don’t know anything about me," he growled, though the words lacked conviction.

           You smirked, leaning back in your chair with a confidence that set his teeth on edge. "Don’t I? You’ve been playing the hero for so long, trying to separate yourself from the darkness. But it’s always there, Aaron, lurking beneath the surface."

           He turned slowly, his expression hard but his eyes betraying the inner turmoil. The room felt smaller now, suffocating under the weight of what was left unsaid. The way you watched him, the way you spoke as if you knew him inside and out, it crawled under his skin in a way that felt wrong. But even more than that, it felt familiar.

           You leaned forward, your shackles rattling softly as you rested your arms on the table. "We’re not different, you and I," you whispered, eyes gleaming with a dangerous allure. "You spend your life catching people like me. But tell me, Aaron - how much of yourself do you see in us?"

           Hotch clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lash out, to shut you up, but it wasn’t just anger that drove him - it was fear. Fear that maybe, just maybe, there was a certain truth in your words.

           He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, his gaze locked onto yours with a cold intensity. "You and I are nothing alike," he said, his voice low and controlled. "I don’t get off on causing pain. I don’t manipulate and kill innocent people."

           "No," you agreed, your eyes narrowing as you tilted your head slightly. "But how many lives have you ruined, Aaron? How many times have you had to make the hard choice? The one that keeps you awake at night?"

           For a brief moment, a flash of something passed through his eyes - regret, maybe. But he buried it quickly. "I do what I have to," he said, his voice a little too quiet, a little too tired. "To protect people."

           You studied him, a small smile curling at your lips as you sat back once more. "Keep telling yourself that."

           The silence that followed was deafening. It stretched between you like a loaded wire, ready to snap at any moment. Hotch couldn’t bring himself to move, couldn’t turn his back on you again. You were still dangerous, still a killer, but beneath it all, there was something else. Something more complicated.

           And maybe that’s what scared him most of all.

           "You don’t win," he said, more to himself than to you. "You’re going to spend the rest of your life in a cell."

           Your laugh was soft but chilling, echoing through the empty room. "Win? I already have. You may lock me away, but I’m in here," you tapped your temple with a finger, your gaze never leaving his. "I’ll always be in here."

           Hotch’s face tightened, and without another word, he turned and pushed through the door. The cold, sterile air of the hallway hit him like a punch to the gut, but it wasn’t enough to shake off the weight of your words.

           As the door clicked shut behind him, your maniacal laughter faint behind the steel door enclosing you, Hotch realized something unsettling: the chase was over, but the game had just begun. And whether he liked it or not, you were right.

           You were under his skin.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Pick a Card: Message from your Inner-Child

Your inner baby needs you to listen. This reading will help them speak their mind clearly. Will you hear them out? Take what resonates and let go of all the rest but be willing to accept new experiences.

☀️Donate to my CashApp🌙

(fund my inner child's joy)

Feel free to drop any reading suggestions in my inbox. I'll keep them in mind when divining the wisdom that needs delivered to y'all's lil ears. Thank you in advance for all your help and support!

Decks used are The Kawaii Tarot, Pure Magic Oracle, Romantic Lenormand and The Karma Cards.

_____________________________________________________________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Capricorn, Aquarius, Libra

Song: Pantsuit Sasquatch by Molly Lewis

Vibes: Green, red, night sky, thorns, bouquet, red flowers, chess, star gazing, alligator, aroma therapy, herbal remedies, apothecary, rabbits, snake skin, olive branch, Zues, Demeter

Cards: 6 of Swords, Saturn, Tower, Lilies, Herbal Craft, Hallowed Heart

Hello, pile 1. Your inner child is really tired of having to be the adult for people who are older than them. They are tired of playing mentor for those who should be mentoring. They want to be done with those people. They are holding up a building with their tiny arms and their shaking frame. As if someone put the world on their shoulders and asked them to carry it with bones that were not developed enough to hold it and without the mental fortitude to withstand the pressure. They wish to rest. They wish to lash out at the adults who relied on them before they were ready or willing. I see your inner child resembles Alice in Wonderland. After the wicked adults in your inner child's life grew white flowers, they demanded it was your fault and made you paint the white roses, red. They took their purity. They hurt you a lot.

The main message I am hearing from them is, "Please be gentle with my little heart and my small frame. I was treated harshly purely for being alive. I need healing. I need time to rest and recuperate. Please do not yell at me for my mistakes. Please do not hurt me for my shortcomings. I did not ask to be here. I only wish for it to get better than it is now. I'm sorry I wasn't mature. I'm sorry I've been impatient but I have been patient for so long. I've spent so much time waiting for my caretakers to do their jobs. Please. I don't need structure. I need relief."

They do not hold you accountable for everything that happened to you, my dear. They are reaching their little hands out for you to help them up. They want to be more present in your life. They want to have fun again. They didn't have enough of it as a child. They want to play outside. The last message I'll leave you with is some advice I find very important.

"Play is the psychological opposite of Trauma."

____________

PILE TWO

Astrology: Scorpio, Gemini, Cancer (maybe libra)

Song: Burn Your Village by Kiki Rockwell

Vibes: Grey, pink, purple, corvids, pinecones, sage, lavender plant, grizzly bear, spider, scorpio, eagle, hummingbird, long hair, video games, D&D, law, Zephyr, Eurus, Callisto, Artemis, Hecate

Cards: Justice, Clouds, Bear, Hecate's Path, Songbirds, 8th House

Hi, pile 2. Your inner child is full of vengeance. I see that without the vengeful energy they are very respectful and kind. Their anger is extremely understandable and a reaction induced by the environment they grew up in. Your inner child has an intense sense of justice. They know they have been treated unjustly by the authority in their life. Those in control of their circumstance took their autonomy and right of trial. The authorities judged you harshly for no good reason and were unpredictable. The authority would explode at random instances making them hard to anticipate. They were dangerous. Purely because they wanted to make your life miserable to cope with their own miserable life. Your inner child did not deserve that. Your inner innocence was corrupted into a furious and resentful person. They are aware they deserved better. They were conscious of their mistreatment. I see they could have been mistreated because of their race or gender.

The message I am hearing the loudest from your inner child is, "Those filthy horrid people deserve to atone for their wrong doings. No one helped me. They didn't even listen. They took that authorities word for truth and no one heard my side of the story. I am not a liar. I am not guilty. I did nothing wrong and now my older self doesn't even believe me either. The people who did this to me will pay. They will face justice if I have to be the one to dish it out. I hate them. I hate what they turned me into. I was pure. I was innocent. Now look at what they have made me. This isn't fair. This isn't right! Why was I treated this way!? Why does no one believe me?! I will never abuse power like that person did. I will end this cycle of abuse. I release and remove everyone who blamed me without learning the whole story. I am letting go of the pain they put me through. They do not deserve me or my kindness. They only deserve my hatred and resentment. I hope they burn."

Your inner child begs you to protect them from the people who did this to you. I can feel they are still in your life. It might be a father or a brother or an uncle. I also see it could be a pastor. Your inner baby will continue to lash out at random times because they have no where to aim all this negative emotion. They want to be free of guilt that shouldn't be theirs. They want to be free of judgmental eyes. Free them from the illusion that this authority laid over everyones eyes. I leave you with one last message.

"The weakest link will target the strongest link to avoid that they're useless."

_________

PILE THREE

Astrology: Virgo, Leo, Sagittarius

Song: Heart of a Dancer by The Happy Fits

Vibes: Blue, pink, forest green, androgenous, duality, 2b hair texture, robins, blue jays, coffee mugs, sculpting, yin/yang, balance, rose quartz, pearl, magnolia tree, gardening, bonfire, 3rd eye, Aphrodite, Hermaphroditus, archangel Samuel, Lucifer Morningstar, Baphomet

Cards: 8 of Cups, Birds, Woman, Pyro-kinesis, Closing Circle, Virgo, 7th House, North Node

Hey there, pile 3. I feel many complex emotions from your inner child. I see how they were conditioned is much different than how they genuinely are. They were conditioned to be quiet, serene and passive. But when they are acting genuine it is exact opposite. They are loud, angry and active. There is a need to walk away from their conditioning and those who conditioned them. They don't know how to ask that of you because of how they were taught. They do not speak unless spoken too and this makes it difficult for them to communicate with you. They are anxious they will be punished if they ask for anything of you. Invite them forward and allow them to speak their mind. They hold back a lot of emotion that needs to be expressed. You need to be open to hearing what they have to say.

The important message I need to tell you from them is, "You will benefit from our collaboration. I'm sorry for speaking up but you are not following your heart anymore. You are following what you have been told. This is not authenticity that you display. It is fake. Even if it is well-meaning you are not yourself. You are pretending to be someone else. Please let me express my rage. Please let me express my heart. I can't hold it anymore. I don't wanna feel this way anymore. Let me chatter and chirp and yell and scream. I wasn't allowed to when I was young. I need the freedom to do so now. Allow me to open doors I was never allowed to enter. Please see me in my full complexity. I am more than just a pretty face. I am more than my body. I am a person. I have personality. I have beliefs. I am a benefit to society when I can speak. I am not a waste. I am good as I am. I don't need to bottle my true self to make others comfortable. Free me, please."

They are asking you to allow yourself and your inner child to be themselves. They deserve space to exist freely without having to hide themselves away. I honestly don't need to say much more but I will leave you with one more piece of advice.

"Authenticity is the most powerful way to exist."

___________

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Taurus, Aries, Pisces (maybe aquarius)

Song: If My Heart Was a House by Owl City

Vibes: Muted colors, yellow, orange, fairies, sunflowers, barn owl, cat mint, raptors, vase, eyes, beards, lotus, candles, chimneys, diamond, playing cards, hobbits, anime, Apollo, Athena, Aphrodite

Cards: King of Pentacles, Sun, Owls, Ancestors, Gnomes, Aquarius, Venus

Hello and welcome, pile 4. Your inner child is asking me to tell you that you won't find the love you are looking for in other people. You won't find it in romance. You won't find it in friendship. At least not until you can find it in them. They didn't have the luxury of building their life on an identity that was theirs. They don't even know who they are. You need to explore them. Discover yourself in them. Be friends with them. They long for connection and the only one who can give that to them is you. They spent their whole life just trying to survive that they found identity in the pain they experienced. There is so much more to them than victimhood. So much more than their trauma. They are bright as the sun and immensely smart. They are funny and creative. Let yourself and your inner child grow beyond your collective pain and become something more. Your family isn't the pinnacle of humanity. I have a feeling that your family might have a narcissist among them. They are only a facet of humanity, my friend. There is so much more to your life than being approved by others. You are made of magic. You need to see that.

The message I hear from your inner child is, "I'm done striving for love from people who never intend on giving it to me no matter how perfectly I perform. I'm tired chasing something I'm never going to catch up too. I've always known I'm better than that. They made me feel so small though. They made me feel so pointless and useless. I worked so hard for their love but they will only ever love themselves. They will never have enough room in their heart for me. They make me feel like I'm not enough. I want to give myself the love they never could afford for me. I want to be loved so much. I want to be held and cherished the way I deserve to be. I am enough even if they say I'm not. I've always been enough even though I'm small. They are a giant black hole of emptiness and nothing. They are jealous of my light. I wish my older self could see that. I'm not selfish for wanting to be loved. I'm not wrong for wanting to be adored. I'm worth the effort. Please, see that it's true. I want to be known for who I am. I want to be discovered. I wish so deeply to be seen and appreciated. I'm the only one who can do it."

Your inner child is asking something of you. They ask you to take the role of mother and father for yourself. A role that was never filled even if you had your parents in your life. They neglected you. So much so you felt like you didn't deserve love but you desperately craved it. My dear, I will leave you with one last message and then the rest is up to you.

"You are worthy of being loved by you."

[threepandas]

Bad End: Loyalties

Did you know? That one of the unexpected benefits to being reborn, with your memories intact, is that you carry your first life's cultural taboos with you? All your knowledge, all your superstitions, every horror movie you've ever so much as glanced at. Like a dowry, brought with you, into this, your new life.

You end up not giving as much weight, to local superstitions. Especially the ones you know are not true. How? Well, sometimes? In the mad, random, overwhelming blur of the Cosmos? You end up in a Reality that to YOU? Was once fiction. Living in a snapshot of that world's history, as it plays out. Just as it was prophesied.

It's kinda disorienting. But? You get used to it.

Though you DO have to make a choice. Quickly. And decide where in that prophecy you want to stand. After all... there are many ways it could go. It WAS a "game". A story of romance. That other's lives would be impacted? That nations might rise or fall? That people could and will DIE? Oh, that is irrelevant! Isn't it?

They are young.

In LOVE.

Obviously, I could not risk my life on such irresponsible grounds. Plant my flag and swear loyalty, to such fickle hearts. I would die. They would get me killed, for their love story. No... No, what I needed? Was something stable. Selfish. Someone who would claim, but would KEEP.

I needed someone who rewarded loyalty. Someone who praised cleverness. Protected his own. Had (and would again) kill any who set untoward eyes upon those who served him. Someone guaranteed to survive until the end. Machiavellian, scheming. A soft and twisting word. Whispered kindly, in so many, many ears.

The power behind whichever throne he chooses.

Most Senior Royal Advisor, Iwamoto Nobutoshi. My boss. Or, really, Master I guess. Boss was for gangsters. Which was still weird for me. Part of me still twitched violently, every time I said the word "master". My brain insisting, it was either a sex thing or a slavery thing, and that I should respond with Immediate Violence at being told to call anyone that.

Yeah... there ARE downsides to keeping your memories. It really is a mixed bag, all told.

But, hey! All those horror movies I've seen in passing? Scary Horror-Terror Stuff I've absorbed through cultural osmosis? Has been really coming in handy, not gonna lie. So has my understanding of what constitutes "psychological warfare" and "mindfuck-y, liminal, torment".

It should NOT be as cathartic as it is? But... not gonna lie. I've gotten weirdly GOOD at this. Learned to become one with the shadows. Sneak into and out of places, I rightfully should not BE. Usually with a bucket of animal blood from a butcher's. Occasionally, if I KNOW they have someone who can test it? I get the bucket from the morgue.

Which? Is gross as FUCK. And disrespectful. But I have to believe they'd be totally down for fucking with some Evil Rich Assholes. Plus I donate funds to their family's anonymously. So I like to think it balances out? Still don't like to do it, though. I feel like the longer I've been here, the more my morals have chipped away...

Where was I? Right! Tonight's "art"!

I forget where that quote was from, exactly? But? It was true. People do not look up nearly enough. Worse yet, most manors around here? Had attics and weird pockets in their ceilings, with easy access to the floors below. I had? Gotten past? SO many patrols this way. So, SO many.

Frankly, an ALARMING number of patrols.

I'd taken to putting traps in the ceiling, back home.

What I was aiming for, here, was the private rooms. Not the hallway outside the private rooms, oh no, those would be patrolled to hell and back. But inside. Plus? It would have that added, spicy, "we can get you where you sleep" fear factor. And? Having their oh so TRUSTED, highly trained gaurds? See NOTHING? Perfect~

Cause? We? Were doing a good ol fashioned "Sins of The Past" Haunting!

The trick, if you don't actually have any good oppo-research available? Is to be vague, yet aim for things you do know about them. Let them fill in the blanks. Such as? The VERY convenient deaths of Lord Jackass's other brothers, which cleared HIS way towards power. There's no PROOF of any wrong doing... but~? Guilty hearts DO tend to tell on themselves~!

Slinking down the rope ladder silently, into the frankly hideously overdecorated room. I got to work. On silent feet, I began to set the stage. Furniture, lifted and silently stacked, around the snoring Lord and his equally unconscious wife. Expensive pottery, covered in a thick and padded bag, before it is struck.

As though some silent blast of power had gone off. Each piece, placed right back where it had been, now broken, on the floor. Next? The most time consuming, but subtle, one. Also the one that would spread farthest as gossip. Using a custom made seam ripper, tear out the eyes of every example of his family's crest on his clothes. On his bedding.

Yes, ALSO on the robe he wore to bed. That one takes very gentle movement. Very nerve-wracking, not gonna lie. You gotta go slow. Once you DO? Good ol "tears of blood." Just paint it right on the cloth, let it stain. As though the crests were weeping.

THEN, you paint the room in nicely vague horror movie script.

"Brother. Why?" "We know. We know EVERYTHING. How could you?" "We are tired of waiting, join us. Join us Brother." "We are witness, a shame upon our blood."

And other such gems! Plus the good ol hands scrambling, covered in blood, to a point in the center of the room. Put a round painters cloth down, and~? Gently sift ash and bone dust (I dried up bones from the kitchens, then ground um! Also great for gardening.) over the floor. Step UP, to my ladder, kit away, grab the cloth, and? Off we go!

Room successfully haunted.

Couldn't happen to a nicer asshole, really. Is it a BIT much? Yeah, probably. People lose their SHIT. I apparently have "a talent", according to my teammates. Which is nonsense. It's all B-grade horror move nonsense and house of horrors gross outs. Visceral ick. But it's NEW here, so I guess that counts? Even if I am plagiarizing the FUCK out of somebody.

Thankfully, though, dispite my "talent"? Master Iwa- ...No, wait, didn't he tell me recently to call him by his name? Uncomfy. A good sign, obviously, but... uncomfy. Don't Like that he knows who I am. I was aiming for, you know, mid rank? Not disposable but pretty forgetable? But now I have a Useful Skill. Have proven to be INTELLIGENT.

Fuck, I even made the mistake of cleaning up and organizing PAPERWORK. You know, paperwork? A thing you would have to READ and MAKE SENSE OFF, to be able to organize? Have to create some kind of workable and efficient system, by WHICH to sort? I thought it was an assistants! Not HIS!

One fuck up is all it takes.

He will find you, he WILL rip the secrets out of you, and yes! He WILL smile pleasantly the entire fucking time! It's horrifying! Kinda cool! I'm pretty sure my life flashed before my eyes! Ha ha... Holy SHIT.

Right, where...? Right! My "talent"! Master Nobutoshi? Big on "right piece for the right purpose". Yeah, you could FORCE people to go against their ideals, their beliefs, their very nature... but you can only do so, for so long. Fear fades. Pain can be overcome. Not everyone fears death.

He regards it as foolish, inefficient, to drag and force and scream.

No, no! He? Oh, he merely... suggests. A softly spoken recommendation. A guiding hand, to show you, the best use of your skills. And if that guidance just so happens to serve his interests? Well... what a wonderful coincidence~ How fortuitous.

Heavy hands get broken. Snapped at and slapped away. But a gentle touch? A little nudge? Sweet whispers in your ear? That tell you what you want to hear? Guide you where HE wants you to be? Well, THAT is so much harder to notice, isn't it. So, SO much harder to fight.

I chose pretty well, I like to think. Because no matter the game? He'll come out on top. Probably laugh, as all the other players, dance to his tune. Who WOULDN'T want to be on his team? His team wins.

And winning? Means I survive.

Dropping off my kit in the shed at the back of the Iwamoto guest residence gardens (where, should it be found, the presence of such things could be blamed on unscrupulous guests), I trudge back towards the servants quarters. I'm tired and filthy. It's the kind of late? Where it's flipped right around to become early.

Luckily, me and my teammates plan ahead, so there is a still moderately warm bath waiting for me. God bless Aiko and all she stands for. For this? I'll even carry her back to our room. Since, once again, she's decided "fuck it" and just curled up on the stack of towels. Doesn't even fit. She just shoved her upper body in the cubby and called it good.

I snort and step over her. Get my fuckin bath. Late night shifts are the worst. But we all take um. I focus on getting clean, grabbing my passed out lump of a roommate, and heading to bed. Fucker drools on me. Snorkels right in my ear. Takashi laughs silently as we pass him, hold the door for me. Seems to be heading out as we head in.

Master Iwamoto's shadow network never truely sleeps, after all.

Always someone doing something.

Dumping us both in our beds, I greatfully pass out. Do not dream. Greet near mid-day as my dawn, ready to start it all over again. Up, a quick bath, dressed and ready to go. Nothing to seem here but us identical servants. We go in shifts. All the better to be as disorienting as possible, to outsiders.

Everyone who looks like each other? Grouped on a shift. Taught to use make up to make themselves even MORE indistinguishable. We pick someone about in the middle, appearance wise, of each group, as the Standard. Everyone is to copy them. For my group, it's me.

I pick up the whispers and news, that have been collected since this mornings report. Second one of the day. At least, second one when we're not on "war" footing. As I walk, I glance down. Technically not supposed to read these, but I'm fairly sure he knows I do at least read the top page. Is amused by it. I'd have seen punishment otherwise. Or removed from delivery.

Oooh~ lookie THERE! How SCARY~☆! It appears someone was HAUNTED last night! By the ghosts of their dead brothers, you say? Angry ancestors, you say? Wife hysterical? Fled to her parents house? Sister, in tears, before the king? Oh my, oh my~!

I struggle not to grin. That would give the game away. Me? Reading something I'm not supposed too? I would NEVER. He he he~

Casually weaving through other servants, I keep reading. Climbing stairs and ducking down halls. Huh. Wait a second... slowing, I step to the side of the covered walkway. Re-read that last paragraph. Near the end of the page? Is something... strange. Not right.

I REMEMBER the Plot.

Made SURE I would remember. Wrote it down, then again and again. Memorized it, like my life literally depended on it, while it was still somewhat fresh in my mind. Because, frankly, it DID depend on it. Even now? Decades later? I can recite it by rote.

So why? Pray tell? Did our blushing Protagonist? Have a BROTHER.

Furthermore, why the FUCK have I not NOTICED this before?

Glancing around, I see far too many watchful eyes, to properly investigate. So I straighten. Pleasant, vague, expression in place. I walk forward. In no hurry at all. Definitely going to deliver these papers. Certainly not delaying in the slightest. Nothing to see here, everyone! Go about, what you were. We are all friends here, RIGHT?

I step into the building at the far end of the covered pathway. Resist diving into the first room available. That? Would be too predictable. I go for the THIRD. One quick grab, slide, and side-step? And~? Poof! Like I was never there. Servant? WHAT servant? These halls are EMPTY. You're clearly seeing things... are you okay?

Immediately, I lift the reports. Well, immediate after a look around the room, of course. Don't want to get CAUGHT. Flipping to the second page, I start reading. What's this about a Brother? What BROTHER?! There IS no BROTHER!

....except there IS.

Somehow.

And HE? Is a very, VERY clever man. One who lived quietly. Like a ghost. After the failed assassination attempt that nearly killed him and his mother. Wait a- ...failed? That sounds...? Familiar.

I have to close my eyes and think, to remember. Lean my head back and let my brain churn. It's... obscure. A tiny detail, mentioned offhand. Single line of dialog, in only one of the routes. Not even the MAIN routes. But one of the Secret ones, that you have to unlock... in the... collectors? Edition? I think? There was that play through video, right? We were eating... a noodle dish of some kind...

Fuck, I can't remember it. Not fully.

But I remember ENOUGH.

I REMEMBER? That it WASN'T a FAILED attempt. That Protagonist-chan's family didn't talk about them. For vaguely plot relevant reason. There was healing and good vibes. Follow your dreams, kids. Buy now. Etc etc...

He... survived? How? Damn it. Doesn't say. But... shit. He's cause a LOT of trouble, isn't he? And it looks like he's kind... railroading his sister into a specific route. That, or keeping her from emotionally cheating on her fiancée. Can't tell. Haven't met her. Looks like he's also patented a few... is that a fucking WHISK? Holy shit. These are all early industrial revolution!

Looking up from the reports, I stare blankly into space. Is... is the Protagonist's brother... ALSO a Reincarnator? What do I do with that? Do I contact him? Say "hello"? "I'm here too"? I thought I was... was completely alone in this world. But of all the places he could BE. Smack dap RIGHT in the middle of all the action?! Holy SHIT.

I'm going to have to think about this. A LOT.

Correcting the reports, I step back into the hallways. Casual as you please. Continue on my way, even as my mind churns and churns. Why is he gathering allies? Why hide for so long? Is he counting on his sister's plot armor to carry over? Or does he have actual military training? He's amassing loyalists. For WHAT?

And the reports said he's searching for something. Seem to suggest that WE are keeping it AWAY from him. What are we hiding? Protecting?

People? Resources? A mine?

I reached Master Nobutoshi's study, in his private wing. The halls quite, as only the most elite and trusted servants were allowed to travel here. Kneeling, I knocked on the door frame, waited to be acknowledged.

Receiving an almost absent-minded acknowledgement, I slide open the door.

Framed by delicately painted screen and thickly stuffed book shelves, Iwamoto Nobutoshi was, as always, the very picture of an elite scholar. Beautiful and refined. Slow and deliberate in movements, as though each had been pondered and found acceptable. I had never met a man more graceful. Not in this life, not in the last.

To my right, the sliding door to the gardens were open. Giving a picturesque view of summer, as it faded into fall. To the left, painted screens. Done by some Master's hand. With a splendid level of detail that still caught me off gaurd, even now. There were birds, in those painted trees! Had there always been? I wished I could look closer.

Nonetheless, I respectfully offered the reports for perusal.

"Right on time. This One had begun to worry." He said as he set aside his brush, smile mild as ever, even as his eyes swiftly cataloged each new discrepancy. There were several. "Bruises. Did the new padding in your suit, not sufficiently protect? This One will be most displeased if we have been lied too. We were promised it would."

No, and that was the thing, wasn't it? My kit? Had never been better. But... I had been damn near ambushed on my way TOO my job. Had to take evasive maneuvers. Do a LOT more parkour then I was comfortable with. Those fuckers had been... persistent. Weirdly so. Which made no sense, since they didn't seem affiliated with anyone I recognized.

"Oh?" The question was less a question and more a flat note of outrage. He held a hand out for the reports, began to read. "How... interesting. They certainly seem to be getting bold. This One begins to wonder. If he has perhaps been too kind, that they would see fit to harrass his-"

An ominous silence fills the room as he cuts off mid-sentence, as his eyes find something on the page he's reading. He has gone utterly still. The gentle curl of smoke from his pipe, wafting around him like the warning trails of a dragon. The deadly hidden embers of a forest fire, flaring up. His pleasant smile had frozen upon his face. Like a mask.

"He certainly does love to push his luck, does he? Make demands, for things he has no right too. Things which are ours." The words weren't even so much addressed to me? As the were a hissed accusation, towards the report in his hand. Someone, somewhere, seemed REALLY dead set on pissing Master Nobutoshi off.

Honestly? That seemed really unwise, but it's their funeral... I guess...?

Master Nobutoshi turns so suddenly I only barely avoid flinching. Jumping like a newbie. He's doing that "pick you apart at the seems" stare again. Looking into my soul. I remain politely deferential, patient, as I wait for him to work through his thoughts. He rises from his desk. Elegant and prowling, as he stalks towards me. Gaze intense, fixated. I... I am missing something.

"Tell me, my loyal little shadow. What would you do? If some... upstart, dared begin to covet, that which was yours? Started panting after your dearly beloved trusted, like a filthy dog? Trying to steal them away? Would you take that? Tolerate such disrespect? I... This One... can not imagine you would."

"You are so very loyal. So diligent. You serve me not for fame or glory, power nor wealth. You ask for so little, offer so much. I would give the world to you. My precious, loyal, little shadow. Forever by my side. No doubt, we shall grow old together. That they would covet you? The audacity is unthinkable."

Soft yet warrior calloused hands, come up to cup my cheeks. And... ah. Yeah. T-That's pretty fucking CLEAR on what I'm missing. My boss? Has a thing for me? Crush? Or... or is it "is in love with"? W-what was that about people coveting?! Hold on! Roll things back a second! What's happening?! I never thought I was blind... about apparently I need a stick and some GLASSES.

Because there is "missed some subtext" and then there's "dude, how do you miss the silent war with guerrilla tactics, right fucking IN FRONT OF YOU?!", so like? Either I was being DELIBERATELY kept seperate? Or... actually? No. That actually sound exactly like what probably happened. An information diet.

FUCK.

Before I could decide how, exactly, I felt about that? The same door I had entered through, opened again. This time sharply and with an audible snap. Dragging urgently along it's tracks and hitting its end, in a way the delicate crafting had never been meant for. I swear it nearly cracked. Alarmed, I spun, breaking free of Master Nobutoshi's hold on my face, to face whoever was at the door.

Aiko.

Shouldn't she be near the front gates? "Sweeping" and listening to gossip for the Shadows? How. Why!? My eyes catch on slowly spreading red. Stark against her... our uniform, she's hurt. Badly. Gripping her side and the door frame like it's the only thing still holding her up. Her face ashy pale and sweating with terrible pain. Eyes determined. Her jaw set in that stubborn, stubborn grit.

"Master. You need to leave. Now! They...!" She wavers, starting to blackout from the pain, before forcing it back. "They've attacked! We're holding them back. A-As best as we c..can! Please! Lord Iwamoto, I BEG you! You must go! If you don't survive this, then everything is lost!"

As if to underline the terrible wait of her words, an explosion goes off, shaking the austere foundations of the ancient house in which I serve. My mind immediately flits and races along the emergency protocols. W-was that one of ours? Did we..? No. No, we would have... DID set up barricades. This is our house. We've already trapped it.

They are the ones who brought explosives.

You don't bring things like those, if you plan to leave survivors. You bring those? When you plan to make EXAMPLES. Aiko is right. We have to go. Now. Heart hurting, I nod to my roommate, one of my best friends, and know that this is it. I will likely never see her again, alive. There are... so many goodbyes, words, I wish I had time to say.

In the look she shoots me? I see the same.

We knew this might come.

Just... just hoped it never would.

My boss's crush can wait. His LIFE is more important. I turn and reach for him, to guide him towards the screens, leading deeper into his wing. Get to him easily. But do not get more then two steps before an arm, like steel, is suddenly around my waist and jerking me back.

Jerking US back. Towards the wall of scrolls and decorative pieces, that sat behind Master Nobutoshi's desk. Startled, my gaze shoots down to see Master Nobutoshi's arm, unhesitating and possessive, wrapped around my waist. There is... a lot more muscle under those flowing robes, then I ever suspected. But-?

I do not even have time to think, to ponder, the question before it is violently answered. The masterfully painted screens, that I had long admired, smashing and tearing as bodies crash through them.

Takashi, dead on the floor, sword still in hand. Around him, his teammates dying, as they still tried to by their Lord even a few moments more, to escape. The large, ever polite Shadow, a man who had been like a brother to me... dumped upon the ground like little more then trash. To be tossed aside and discarded. Stepped over, on some other man's campaign.

His blood mixed with the ruins of the Hunting Tiger screen. Two proud, quietly noble wonders, destroyed. It had been his favorite.

Aiko howled with rage and grief. Threw herself into the fight.

We had been family.

I turned, away, hating myself for it. Knowing it's what they would want. Tears threatened but I could not let them come. Not... not yet. Not yet. There was an emergency exit. Where? Where!? I remembered it. I knew, I knew it! But the grief was muddling my mind, making it slow. Damn it. DAMN IT! WHERE WAS IT!!!??

Master Nobutoshi reached past me. Gripping the hilt of decorative sword, he lifted and drew. It.. it was not decorative. Merely disguised. A masterwork blade. It sang ominously as it cut through the air, entering the scene. Then... a face, breathe, pressed to the side of my head. Like.. like a lover? A terrible discordance, in this already awful event.

"Behind the Three Mountains and a Shrine, My Love. I will be with you shortly."

I froze. The world froze, for all it continued, around me. Distantly... I felt Master Nobutoshi loosen his grip, after... after one last possessive squeeze. Let go. Felt him turn away, as he faced the room. But... but that was... he.... he had....

W-was that? I-Informal? A..And WHAT did he call m-!?

My hand, shaking, found the right scroll. Somehow. Without my numb, panicking mind, they moved dispite me. Somehow determined to keep me alive, dispite my shock. I flicked the right switch. Disarmed the traps in the order they needed to be. And... click. There was the trap door. Our... our way out...

I stared. Blankly. W.. what was I supposed to..? Do?

Was I finally... in shock? That's... probably not good. Bad, actually. I should... should move. There are swords here. It's...? Dangerous? Yes. Dangerous. Bad. I need too... too think. Cry, maybe. Somewhere... not loud. With... with no... no swords.

Stumbling. Stiffly. Like my body was not my own anymore, I knelt. Hands clumsy and far away, I struggled with the trap door. Finally got it. People were... were fighting. Hurting. I... I didn't want to be here anymore. Didn't want to be ANYWHERE anymore. I... I wanted it to stop.

Why? Why wouldn't they all just... just STOP.

Aiko. Takashi. My teammates. Who else? Who else was hurt? G-gone? I was... was supposed to be SAFE. This was supposed to be SAFE. I worked so hard. Compromised and compromised, pushed myself down, and made myself fit. I worked and worked and WORKED, until I had nothing LEFT, b... because this was supposed to be SAFE!!!

I... I was supposed to b-be...!

"Iwamoto!" A voice roared above the chaos and fighting. "Where is She?! I know you're keeping her somewhere!"

Like a lions roar, some primal part of my brain demanded I pay attention. Now. Dragging, with brutal claws, my fragile mind, from its drifting cloud of numbness. One leg already on the steps to the escape tunnel, I turned, and... with horror? Realized I was to blame. For... for ALL of this.

Because? There, in armor, stood the Protagonist's brother. Surrounded by his men, with his sister safely at home, what other SHE could he POSSIBLY mean? If not the one? That ALSO remembers? H...He killed Aiko. Takashi. For THIS?

Monster.

Oh god, he.. he was a MONSTER.

Master Nobutoshi and the Reincarnator squared off. Swords drawn, men at their back. Already, so many were dead. So many I had known. Had worked with. My friends. Just... just pawns, between two powerful men. Dizzy, I realized, they... they hadn't even glanced at them. Didn't even seem to SEE them. Just... just more fodder. For their grand campaigns.

"You know?" Nobutoshi all but purred, as he clashed blades with his opponent. "I really must thank you. You helped me realize, the true worth of the gem I possessed. And, once you're dealt with? I will no longer need to hide her in obscurity. With you dead, little rat, I can finally have her, in every way that matters."

"She'll be a beautiful bride." His grin was a savage thing, full of baring teeth.

The Protagonist's brother raged. A lion, a mountain, and a warlord. Fury twisting what were, no doubt, handsome features into something horrifying. Blade work swift and brutal. How many of my friend's blood? Still painted that blade? Still stained his armor? He dressed himself like he thought he was the hero. He was destroying the only home I had known, for these past decades.

"Pervert! You disgusting CREEP! You think you can just imprison women until they love you?! I always knew there was something wrong with you, but this? This take the cake, you FREAK! I'm getting her out of here! Stopping your schemes! Once and for all!" The Brother roared, something unhinged in his eyes. A lifetime of isolation at last, too much, now that relief might finally be at hand. "You'll never understand her! You CAN'T understand her! Not like me! She was MADE FOR ME! We're supposed to be in this TOGETHER! And I WON'T let you keep me from her ANY LONGER, YOU FREAK!"

They couldn't see anyone but each other, as they fought. Brutal. Savage. Singing blades and madness. Around the room, the two sides clashed. Died. Pointlessly, at the command of their Lords. Sitting at the entrance to the escape route, I could see Aiko from here. Takashi. Both dead, gone, where just this morning we had been joking over our plans for an upcoming festival. We... we were going to hit up the candy booths first. Double back to store our loot. Then enjoy the festivities.

It was a good plan. I was going to pretend... that... that I didn't notice Aiko, stealing all the sour plum candies. I hated them. She loved them. But would never take them if I offered. O.. only fun if she could sneak um. Takashi would save me my favorites. Wasn't much of a sweets guy.

Gone...

All gone.

And for what? Because I "belonged" to the Brother? Because Master Nobu-...no. Because Iwamoto Nobutoshi, picked a FIGHT? All I wanted was to be safe. Live quietly. No plot. No drama. No chaos. Just... just market days and laundry, sweeping and helping make dumplings. Weeding the gardens. Napping with kids and cats. Slowness and the shifting of seasons.

A life, unremarkable.

I looked down into the escape tunnel. Dark, long, and to somewhere unknown.

They did not notice me leave.

[carnivore-voyeur]

A Lengthy List of Per Eriksson Facts for Future Reference

(Based on the Live he did on Instagram. I rewatched it and made a list so you don't have to)

He's a t-shirt collector and he (allegedly) has more t-shirts than Jutty Taylor.

He says he barely paid attention in school b/c he was too busy playing guitar.

His favorite tattoo is the one on his chest. It was his first tattoo.

The back tattoo took several sessions and 30+ hours. It was very painful.

His stomach tattoo hurt the most. It's his least favorite and he wants to get it removed.

He took out his lip piercing b/c it was uncomfortable to eat with. He kept biting it.

He likes playing realistic first person shooter games. He's a PC and Xbox gamer.

His favorite guitar is the Fender Stratocaster. It's the one he uses in Ghost.

He was invited to see Rite Here Rite Now in LA.

He saw Ghost for the first time in 2011 when he was in Katatonia.

He started out as a touring guitar tech and worked for Opeth, Meshuggah, Dark Funeral, Katatonia, and more.

He's been playing guitar for 35 years and he thinks he's a mediocre guitar player.

Per started out learning how to play drums b/c his older brother was a drummer.

He had his necklace custom made in 1999/2000. He rarely takes it off.

He says his Finnish is not good.

He doesn't speak Spanish very well either. He understands more than he can speak.

He's a Snoopy fan b/c his mom got him a Snoopy plushie when he was two. He still has it.

His favorite horror movie is The Shining. He prefers the movie to the book.

His favorite Katatonia song is Sweet Nurse.

He loves animals.

He does enjoy black metal.

He thinks his hair sucks.

His favorite horror game is Silent Hill II.

He had an apartment in Barcelona, but he no longer lives there.

He was in a band called Genocrush Ferox that he says was a technical death metal band.

His favorite food is tacos.

His favorite band is Macabre.

His favorite colors are black, red, and purple.

He's seen Metallica live many times. It was his favorite band when he was a kid.

He says the hardest part of touring is traveling and boredom.

He loves true crime and he studied serial killers. He doesn't support them, just interested in their psychology.

He'd love to play with King Diamond some day.

He prefers still water to bubbly water.

He's seen SOAD live a couple times.

Toto was one of the first bands he saw live.

He's played Dead by Daylight but it gave him motion sickness.

He gets nervous playing live.

He loves good drummers.

He plays guitar, bass, and drums. He likes to sing too but says he's not great at it.

He says he had a bad experience meeting one of his heroes.

He's seen Rammstein and loves them.

He loves the word dong because they use it in his favorite show, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

He doesn't understand why he has fans.

He says he will never do anything with Bloodbath ever again.

He hates social media.

He absolutely loves his baphomet plushies.

He prefers dark evil horror than gore.

He likes it when people call him babygirl.

He doesn't like anime.

[barbatusart]

bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)

wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here

wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)

but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things

on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning

Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.

may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol

[letterful]

❝ “Columbia now nine times the speed of sound.” “Roger that, Dan, I’ve got a solid TACAN locked on, uh, TACAN twenty-three.” “The, uh, tracking data, map data and pre-planned trajectory are all one line on the block.”

These authentic samples of communication between NASA and astronaut Dan Brandenstein on the space shuttle Columbia place us in orbit around our planet. Kate has said of “Hello Earth,” “…this is the point where she’s so weak that she relives the experience of the storm that took her in the water, almost from a view looking down on the earth up in the heavens, watching the storm start to form - the storm that eventually took her and that has put her in this situation.” Our narrator is having another out-of-body experience but this time it’s not nearby, on terra firma, but literally out of this world, and it seems to be final. She is high up above our earth, looking down, and there is a shocking sense associated with that as so few human beings have ever left our world to look back on it. There is a disconnection from what is common, known. I am reminded of The Overview Effect, the very real psychological and cognitive shift experienced by astronauts and cosmonauts—anyone who has left the planet and gone a sufficient distance to look back and perceive our planet not as a familiar home, but as a tiny, fragile ball, barely protected by a thin membrane of atmosphere. This awed feeling is described as one of ultimate compassion and understanding of the imperative to preserve and safeguard the planet.

After the NASA samples, we join our narrator floating in space like the Star Child in “2001: A Space Odyssey,” of the earth, but no longer attached to it, in fact freed from it. The tether has been cut. She is detached from her life and its meaning: there is an innocent, bemused approach as she plays a little game. She is so far from home, she can hold up one hand and block the planet from her field of vision—the earth is a toy. And we shift place, time, and point of view (as Kate so often does in her music) to our narrator driving home in a car at night, looking up at the sky, her loved one asleep on the seat beside her (a sweet, gentle, highly cinematic image, and all the more moving when we understand where our narrator currently is and the loss ahead), when she sees something bright streak across the sky. As she watches it shoot through the stars, she sings, amazed, “Just look at it go!” And what is “it?” Shooting star? Satellite? Space shuttle? A “little light?” If all time is simultaneous, has she glimpsed her own soul shooting past the planet? It is her own little light, a mind-boggling and heartbreaking idea—the cry in her voice when she sings this line indicates that she understands the meaning of this object, and its finality.

At this point, something very unexpected happens. An ethereal, arresting male choir sing a passage based on a traditional Georgian folk song from the Kakhetian region called “Tsintskaro.” It is a shocking transition, one that makes us hold our breath so as not to disturb this sudden, delicate, transcendent moment. Kate on the men’s chorus: “They really are meant to symbolize the great sense of loss, of weakness, at reaching a point where you can accept, at last, that everything can change.”

Our narrator, in full Overview Effect at this point, watches storms form and move to threaten the lives she sees below. She cries out to them in vain, all of them, the sailors, life-savers, cruisers, fishermen, anyone on or near the sea, to protect themselves. We hear in this section a few of the Irish instruments, bringing in echoes of meaning from the previous song “Jig of Life.” Here I am reminded of the idea of the Asian goddess Kuan-Yin, or the Buddhist idea of a Bodhisattva, a human who has attained ultimate awareness (Buddhahood) but motivated by compassion, refuses to leave this plane of reality for the benefit of all sentient beings. Our narrator, moved by the end of her own life, is now able to perceive the ephemeral nature of all creation. Everyone can be exposed to danger, everyone can suffer, everyone can—and will—die. This truth is universal. But she is unable to prevent or stop this truth. No one can.

She then sings a passage that is full of several meanings. She says she was there at the birth, out of the cloudburst, the head of the tempest. This could be the storm that took her, or it could be, from her newly widened perspective of awareness, the start of life itself, the start of the universe. We were all there, we are all made of the matter from a singularity—we are all star dust. The murderer of calm is this physical reality itself. All that is born must die. Entropy exists. She understands this and cries out, “J’accuse.” Hence the ultimate compassion for this tiny little blue ball.

The piece ends with whale song, sounds of radar, and a very mysterious, arcane passage spoken in German which, when translated into English, means “Deeper, deeper, somewhere in the deep there is a light.” In German, the word “tief” can also mean “profound,” and I am reminded of the Latin phrase at the beginning of the Christian Psalm 130 “De profundis clamavi ad te:” “out of the depths I cry out to you.” In the depths of sorrow, in the endless well of suffering, there is a light. Compassion is the light. ❞

via: (x)

[thefloatingstone]

Puff please tell me about Grunt I just saw a Tumblr post you reblogged that vaguely went into detail and I read a small bit of his wiki page but I want to hear it in your own words because it's like 10x more interesting with that filter. Fill my dash with grunt lore

GRUNT IS SHEPARD'S VERY LARGE SON

I don't know whether the designers originally created him with this thought in mind or not but it's really funny because by the time the DLC came out for ME2 you can see the games just fully embracing what was originally just a joke in the Mass Effect fandom.

I used to not be fully into it as a concept but as I'm busy replaying ME3 and having just played ME2 again... nah people were right. He's our son.

He was created in a lab to be an "ultimate krogan warrior" or whatever, but when Shepard cracked how out of his tube, he had did not have that "burning desire of revenge in the name of his species" the scientist who made him was obsessed by. Physically he was perfect, but psychologically, he just didn't understand why he should care about being a krogan. in ME2 when he's introduced, his story arc is helping him connect with what it means to be a krogan, and to help him find purpose as an individual. You essentially help raise this adolescent fully formed person out of apathy and teach him how to care about things, concepts and people, almost completely through actions and not so much through words.

As ME2 goes on, it becomes clear Grunt very much wants Shepard's approval about things, which is funny because at first he comes across as a cold, uncaring fully formed adult, but as you help him learn how to connect with being a member of his species, he'll sometimes want to talk to Shepard JUST to be like "Hey Shepard!! I thought about something to do with being Krogan I thought you'd approve of! listen to this!!"

In the DLC for ME2, you can read up on his internet search history as well as his online purchase history and I just.... think a lot of it explains SO MUCH about him as a character. So I'm just copy and pasting those here

SEARCH: krogan history SEARCH: great wars SEARCH: genofage / ERASED / krogan victories SEARCH: okeer/ ERASED / great generals SEARCH: toochanka/ ERASED / tuchanka SEARCH: urnot wrex SEARCH: battlemaster shepard/ MODIFIED/ commander shepard/MODIFIED/commander shepard normandy SEARCH: animal fights / MODIFIED / large predators SEARCH: tryrannsauros wrex/ ERASED / earth lizard wrex SEARCH: dinosaurs

SEARCH: battlemaster humans/ ERASED / earth humans SEARCH: human history SEARCH: earth wars // DOWNLOAD 6.1T NEWS FOOTAGE - HUMAN GENERAL HISTORICAL - CONFLICT // SEARCH: warrior humans // DOWNLOAD 2.1T DOCUMENTARY FOOTAGE - HUMAN GENERAL HISTORICAL- MAJOR MILITARY FIGURES // SEARCH: great humans/ MODIFIED / honored humans // DOWNLOAD 0.7T NEWSFOOTAGE [sic] - HUMAN ACHIEVEMENT- AWARDS // SEARCH: great storytellers human SEARCH: war stories // DOWNLOAD 0.67T LITERATURE - HUMAN WRITERS CONFLICT// SEARCH: human homer kipling hemmingway // DOWNLOAD 0.13T LITERATURE - HUMAN WRITERS – EARNEST HEMMINGWAY // // DOWNLOAD 0.06T AUDIO BOOKS // // THE SUN ALSO RISES // 14% COMPLETED // FOR WHOM THE BELL TOLLS // 100% COMPLETED // A FAREWELL TO ARMS // DELETED // THE OLD MAN AND THE SEA // 100% COMPLETED SEARCH: sharks

CATALOG ORDER: Ultra Black Ops Mega Catalog PURCHASE 2823- UG-652: Case Premium 54/ER Engine Oil VIDEO DOWNLOAD: The Madness of Sacrifice: The Unauthorized Biography of Warlord Okeer PURCHASE 2856- UG-122: Economy Box, Fishdog Food Factory "Tastee Bites" VIDEO DOWNLOAD: When Fauna Attacks! Volumes 1-10 PURCHASE 3254-UG-975: Batax's Hot Fish Spice VIDEO DOWNLOAD: Vaenia (this is a movie) VIDEO DOWNLOAD: Asari Confessions 26: True Blue (this is porn) PURCHASE 9683- UG-662: Fornax Special Spotlight: Krogan Edition (this is a human magazine focusing on interspecies sexual relations) PURCHASE 8856- UG-972: Captain Cosmic Action Figures: "Garr the Krogan Battlemaster" with real smash your enemies action!

By the time ME3 comes around, most of the rest of the squad is referring to Grunt in terms poking fun at the fact that Shepard is his mom. I think it's Joker who at one point comments "Our baby boy's all grown up" or something to that effect. I can't remember the exact dialogue. I think at one point Garrus also jokes about how "they grow up so fast" or something along those lines.

He also loves spicy ramen.

Grunt is a good boy.

[nocturnowlette]

Hypnosis File Recommendations!

Previous File Recommendation Post Here

I've been gently motivated to start listening to and re-finding old hypnosis files again due to the reception to the previous post. I've been surprised at the amount of actually decent files I've come to remember, but still struggle to find many files that really blow me away. As I've said before, though, I'm a very stubborn owl.

That all being said, here are more files for your consideration.

Read all descriptions and warnings before engaging with these files. Do not engage with anything here or anything in my blog if you are under 18.

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

Dr. Voidritch's Experiment by Bloof

This is a ren.py game about being being a test subject for the eccentric Dr. Voidritch and his hypnotic experiments. It's rather silly and fun, while still having real hypnosis, and fairly competently done hypnosis at that. It's best to download it instead of running on browser.

There is also a sequel to this game called Lavender Labs, though I have not tried it. It seems a lot more like a slice of life thing with dating and hypnosis from the screenshots though.

The rest of these recommendations for today will be about one person, Dragontize.

I rediscovered her shortly after the last recommendation post, and was pleasantly surprised. The best way to describe her overall vibe is "deceptively cute".

She opens every file with the same endearing tagline, "Hello world, I'm Dragontize, I messssmerize with voice and eyes." Her voice is light and enjoyable, the intonation the type to make the edges of your mind feel like they're oozing with pleasant sensations in a minute or two of talking.

Her files are much more directly practical and hypnosis-centric than most, with even her fantastical story-based files keeping a good balance. This is all to say that at a minimum, you will enjoy yourself with these files, even if they may not blow you away.

A Slice of Fractionation by Dragontize

This is how I re-found Dragontize, the actual original file with Evil Fractionation I found! I couldn't locate it for a long time, and realized that the issue was DuckDuckGo being a kinda bad search engine when it comes to specific things.

While I'm working on an Evil Fractionation file myself, this one is a nice and casual overview of it.

Brainwashing Fractionation by Dragontize

A very straightforward and enjoyable fractionation file with the light theming of becoming a member of Dragontize Inc.

For the Very Motivated Subject by Dragontize

This is maybe her best file. It does an interesting sort of thing where the file functions as if you're in the room with her, signaling multiple times that she has moved in some way, but without actually seeing her at all. It doesn't overly describe what she is doing, it's a very naturalistic sort of script in contrast to the often overdetailed storybook manner that others do.

It also very effectively plays with the concepts of anticipation and focus. It demonstrates a better understanding of the psychological aspects of hypnosis than a lot of others.

Good Little Thief by Dragontize

Lastly, a light and fun fantasy session. It's about a thief that is tasked to steal something from a wizard. That's all I'll say.

I've been enjoying going through files even if I don't find many of them super effective. I hope you all will be able to enjoy them even more than I have.

[ann-atar]

Another observation re Sauron and Celebrimbor in ep. 7. (Yes, more. Op is a teacher and is posting while grading today.)

While Celebrimbor slowly, painfully made his way back to the tower, what did Sauron do? He stayed there.

He was tearing the place apart, pacing and fuming, but he stayed put for some time, almost as if he was waiting for Celebrimbor.

As if the fact that Celebrimbor escaped, even for a short time, was momentarily beyond his comprehension.

Like, where is he, where are the nine, I left him right here!?!

He was panicked and enraged, but when Celebrimbor returns, there is still this sense that Sauron expects him.

And then instead of killing everyone immediately and dragging Celebrimbor out to take him to the nine he pauses, makes a show of killing the guards, continues their back-and-forth, says, "you will place them in my hands."

It's showy and theatrical, such a performance of intimidation, is what I'm saying.

Now, maybe there is something essential to the creation of the rings that requires Celebrimbor to surrender them in their finished form to Sauron willingly, because even though the rings incorporate Sauron's blood they are still Celebrimbor's creation and until he gives them away, he remains their master, at least while he's alive. (Which is cool if true and I approve!)

But I think there's something psychological at work too. For months and weeks Sauron and Celebrimbor have been cohabitating in that tower. It's their enclosure, their habitat, their little dysfunctional home. And by leaving (and then returning as expected), from Sauron's perspective Celebrimbor is still playing by most of the rules that govern their relationship.

They're even at the stage where the abuser starts scrambling to justify their choices and tries to win over their victim again ("this too shall pass"). Sauron feels solidly in control of Celebrimbor and now that he knows his identity, Sauron is basking in the heady feeling of being known.

So their codependence is still very much a thing and even though Celebrimbor won this round the game is still very much on, and Sauron expects him to come back, to continue the battle of wills until the next round is settled, and the one after that, and the one after that.

Sauron expects to win, to have Celebrimbor place the finished rings in his hands, because the nine belong to him and so does Celebrimbor.

What Sauron doesn't quite get is that Celebrimbor understands all of this because he can see the pattern now. He went back to that tower not because, as Sauron might have thought, he was compelled by the guards or by fear or by his own complicity, but because he understands the clockwork horror of Sauron's mind.

Despite his show of emotion about their time together ending, Sauron still expects to be in control because he's fighting with might, but now that the veil has been lifted Celebrimbor is fighting with light.

We know that Celebrimbor doesn't have long to live, but if I had to make a prediction about how, exactly, he meets his end it would be this: after drawing out their game by provoking Sauron and slowly "breaking" under torture, he finds a way to end his own life. (Yeah.)

At which point Sauron's rage will be enormous, and destructive, and his version of grief might cause him to display Celebrimbor's body in the way we're all dreading.

Sauron is super powerful and like Celebrimbor told Galadriel there might be no one in Middle-earth who could resist him, but Sauron is not all-powerful. There are flaws in his design, weak points in his facade and Celebrimbor can see them now, he knows where to apply pressure so that cracks form, little by little. He might not deliver the killing blow but I believe he will weaken the form of Sauron's mind, so Sauron will not be in the right headspace to kill Galadriel during their inevitable confrontation.

[mykoreanlove]

Win you over

Part 1

„Shit, why is this so complicated?“, you scoffed out annoyed. You were fine with algebra but statistics was kicking your juicy ass.

„I wanted to study psychology because I wanted to understand people but here I am ogling at numbers and letters“, you mumbled under your breath.

It was a sunny day and everyone around you was enjoying their time at the park - picnicking, napping or playing games. You however sat on the wooden bench under your favourite tree, an oak, trying to understand the mechanics of descriptive statistics.

„Is this the median? Wait, what was that again?“

You were too engulfed in your studies, noticing anything but numbers and variables.

„Oh god, I’m so bored“, Minho whined out in annoyance. „Let’s do something.“

„Already doing something“, Hyunjin remarked snarky.

Both of them were sitting on the opposite side of the park.

„Huh?“, Minho got up and looked at his friend puzzled.

„What are you doing?“

Hyunjin didn’t move, having his back to his friend.

„I’m watching her“, he admitted shyly.

„Whom?“

„Y/N.“

Your name slipped from his plush lips, the sound sweet as honey.

„Y/N? The chic from our statistics class?“, Minho asked confused.

„Yeah. She’s studying psychology, actually. But yeah“, Hyunjin proudly remarked.

„Dude I don’t know“, Minho interfered.

Hyunjin turned around, eyeing his friend daringly.

„You don’t know what?“

„She’s cute and everything but you know what they say about psychologists. They’re all cuckoo“, Minho explained while tapping his finger to his head.

Hyunjin shot him another glare, done with this conversation.

„Heard the sex was hella bomb though“, Minho smirked.

„Oh god, will you please shut up“, Hyunjin begged. „I’m trying to muster up the courage to ask her out. You’re not helping.“

„Shit okay, sorry. Why are you so nervous though? You’re drowning in pussy. Since when are you shy?“

Since she’s smart and would probably figure me out in minutes, he secretly thought.

Hyunjin kept observing you - he was already in love with your little quirks. You knitted your brows when you didn’t understand a thing or nibbled on your blue pen when you were nervous. Your fingers were dirty from the colourful highlighters you used and your neck stiff from hovering over your books.

To him, you were utterly perfect. Perfectly you. Undisguised and authentic, something he rarely saw.

„If you keep staring like that she’ll have to put up a restraining order. Or wait, she’d actually like that, don’t you think?“, Minho laughed out loud.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, far back into his head.

„Okay, I’m going“, he declared boldly.

„Shit wait, I want to see this, too“, Minho ran after him.

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (teaser !!)

the ring doesnt always have to be filled with violence.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

contains; boxer! seungcheol, part-time barista! reader, gamer! wonu, part-time model! mingyu, rapper! vernon, vocalist! joshua (he appears for an open mic scene), they're all in college so college! au, psychology major! wonwoo, art major! vernon, art major! mingyu, business major! reader, business major! seungcheol, hhu playing cupid and matchmaker, no second lead syndrome drama kinda shit bcs i said so, childhood friends to lovers, seungcheol and reader lost contact somewhere in their teen years, seungcheol is an absolute simp for reader, multiple types of tropes to be found, seungcheol is rich (like absolutely filthy rich), same goes to the rest of the hhu (they don't flaunt it like how you'd expect most rich kids to do, just that occasionally reader would have a moment of realisation where she goes 'right, they have the money for that'), reader and her family aren't as rich but are well off enough to have a comfortable lifestyle (working middle class) there's fluff, some occasional angst

mature themes include; sexual tension, making out, lazily making out, fingering, oral (f&m receiving), dacryphilia, cheol is filthy rich and has a filthy mouth to go along with it, corruption kink, marking kink, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), dom! cheol, sub! reader, light bondage, lots of cussing, etc

a/n; yaho~ ik i've been gone for what, 3 years? but, i am back baby! (read in shane/ryan's voice from buzzfeed/watcher) and first fic ofc, i'm dedicating it to my beloved husband, cheol <33 this fic basically proves my permanent residence in delululand lmao 🥴

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"you... want me to join your endurance stream?"

a small hum was met with your question as wonwoo took a sip from his can of black monster energy drink. "...but, why..?" you asked, completely confused.

it wasn't as if you didn't like the idea, though you were caught off guard as the only games you've ever played were... well, more catered towards your style of aesthetic. games such as animal crossing, melatonin, a little to the left.

wonwoo's taste in games on the other hand, they were what you'd expect from majority of the male demographic on earth ㅡ FNAF, first person shooter games, he has a huge obsession with chilla's art games (to which you understand why after watching his playthrough of 'the closing shift' and 'night delivery').

the usual horror, thriller and action genre is what you're getting at.

"reason number one, you're pretty. and no, i'm not trying to hit on you," he then proceeded to raise his hand as if he was taking an oath, "i swear i'm not. i meant it as in, who wouldn't want to watch a pretty girl play games? i know your preferred genre of games and mine are two different worlds but, i'm sure we can compromise."

wonwoo surveys both your surroundings, seemingly to check whether the coast was clear; before propping his arms onto the coffee table and leaning forward.

"reason number two being if you join, i'll be able to get seungcheol to join too."

"so, you're getting me to join so you can get cheol to join?" placing a hand over your chest, you faked betrayal, "i feel so hurt that you're only using me as bait, woo."

"hey, i also want you to join, okay?"

taking a sip from your milkshake, you stared at wonwoo, urging him to continue his explanation.

"___, please. i even had the whole process of the endurance stream planned out! i just need seungcheol hyung to say yes, and you're the key to getting him to say yes!"

"woo, you're friends, of course he'll agree! i don't understand how i play a role in this. i'm sure bantering with mingyu, or even trying a 'no cuss' bet with vernon would be enough to get him to say yes."

shaking his head while sighing, he muttered out a "it's not that simple..."

"woo, i seriously don't get it."

"___, i'm going to be extremely honest, okay?"

you shoot the male sitting front of you a confused look, which prompted him to take a sip of his drink.

"this isn't the first time i've done an endurance stream, i'm sure you know that too. and i'm sure you've seen seungcheol join them but, not all the time. you'll notice it's usually gyu or vernon with me and chat's pretty much made it an inside joke that hyung's a rare pokemon sighting on my streams."

you let out a small laugh at seungcheol being called a rare pokemon sighting, which makes wonwoo smile.

"and, as of late, i've noticed that whenever we hung out, seungcheol would be there too. regardless if he had a match the previous night and his entire body is sore."

"but... we're friends, no? why wouldn't he be there?"

"okay, allow me to rephrase that sentence."

"mmm?"

"seungcheol hyung will only say yes if you're there too."

you're mouth opened slightly, shocked and confused. as you tried to process wonwoo's sentence, he added on.

"and this is just my assumption based on what i've observed from the day vernon introduced you up to now."

"you sound like a psychiatrist, woo..."

"i am a psychology student, no?"

"touché. and what have you concluded from your observation, mr jeon?"

"i think seungcheol likes you."

[adventuringblind]

Hidden In Plain Sight

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: Angst to fluff

Summary: A misunderstanding about profession leads to fluffy confessions

Warnings: Misunderstandings

Notes: This is what healthy communication looks like... my therapist would be proud

Masterlist

Psychology is one of those things that relies heavily on the power of observation. She isn't going for a doctorate in the subject for nothing. Watching and understanding is something she thrives at.

It's one of the reasons she and Charles have been together for so long. He gets lost trying to communicate and she helps him get to wherever his point is trying to go. She gets stuck over analyzing and he helps her process.

The one thing she's noticed in their time together is Max. Charles is his number one fan. It's a given, undeniable fact that she has come to love. Every interaction they have leaves Charles a mess and he's admitted to having a crush on the Dutch.

She doesn't mind one bit. Sure, her and Max might not be close, but they've had a few conversations here and there. If the human heart was only made to love one person then earth would be a sad place.

She's not surprised when Charles comes running up to her one day looking disheartened. He'd been talking about Max and his struggles. Specifically, the fact that sometimes Max gives hints of information just to shut down again.

Hence Charles asking Max to hang out more often. Specifically with her because where Charles fails in his responses, she knows how validate the small pieces Max gives them into his head.

She was never intentionally hiding what she does, she just didn't say anything about it and neither had Charles. Max had been adamant about not receiving help because he's fine and the two didn't want him to think tlthat she was going to be pulling tricks out of her sleeve. All they want is to make sure he knows that people care about him.

Max ends up coming around more often then not. She finds him around the paddock and makes sure to tell him goodluck. They go out to dinner and stay up in the living room playing games til ungodly hours in the morning.

Until Max found out. It was inevitably going to happen at some point. How is she supposed to keep masters, soon to he doctorate, in psychology hidden. Especially considering how close the three were becoming. She just wished it wouldn't have been the way it happened.

A knock at the apartment door alerts them close to midnight. They were in bed, ready to sleep and incredibly cozy.

Charles stumbles out first. A look of concern in his eyes as it could be a friend with an emergency. Which isn't wrong. Technically speaking.

She falls out of bed when the Dutch accent of Max fills her ears. It's angry at something and she's nervous Charles is about to get the brunt of whatever triggered Max.

She hops out of bed and scurried down the hall. "Max?"

His eyes are red and bloodshot. Muscles tense and rigid with squared shoulders. He's defensive. "You lied to me!"

Charles is standing like a dear in headlights. He looks clueless and lost on what to do. "Max, please-"

"What did we lie about, Max?" She gently takes a few steps closer to Charles and taps the Monegasque on the shoulder. A signal that he can relax a bit. Well - more like needs to for her sanity. She'd rather not have this escelate any more then it is.

"A psychology degree? When we're you planning on telling me?" His voice cracks. "Our whole relationship is a lie! Was this sone kind of sick ploy to use whatever I said against me, Charles? Using your girlfriend to get into my head?!"

She looks at him in understanding. "I can explain everything in the way you deserve, if you'll let me?"

Max reluctantly takes a seat in the living room. It's comfortable here. Less formal then the dining room table.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"That was my idea and I apoligize for that." She starts and Max seems to relax a little when he sees he apologetic look. It was never Charles' idea. "I wanted you to feel comfortable around me without you thinking I was trying to look into your head. Charles had wanted to become better friends and that included me being around more. I didn't want to ruin what you two have because of my profession."

Max's gaze becomes infinitely softer. His lips part just a tad and his eyes have a glossy screen over them.

Charles takes a deep breathe and she places a hand on his knee. A gentle reminder she's there with him. "The truth is, Max-" he shudders a but before continuing. "-I've liked you for a very long time. It was selfish of me to want to get closer to you. You just seemed so down recently I wanted you to feel cared for because I truly do care for you - both of us do."

"Both of you?"

"Yeah... the more I got to know you the more I could see what Charles sees." She laughs a bit at herself.

"I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I was just so upset that you didn't tell me. I - I guess I felt betrayed because I like you both. No, wait, we're being honest here right?" Both her and Charles nod him along in encouragement. Max looks at the ceiling, then the floor, then back to them. "I think I love you both? It's weird to think about, loving two people at once. I wasn't sure how I felt until I heard and then I realized how angry I was that I'd been played. And I just - I want you to know that I appreciate how kind you both have been to me. Maybe, if you're both willing, we could give this a try?"

Charles' eyes go wide. She thinks that he may pass out in shock until he starts talking. "We're cuddling. I don't care what either of you say. I think we all need it."

It may not have been the best way for Max to find out, but it led them here. Max comfortably tucked into the middle of the bed, all of them knowing how cared for they truly are.

[romans-empire]

Honestly, I could talk about Lucky Patch for hours. I didn't expect to like their dynamic when I played UTY for the first time, yet here we are.

To be honest, I did not like Flowey prior to Undertale Yellow. To me he was merely a side piece to the overall story of Undertale, I disregarded him and focused on the Dreemurr family which in hindsight does include him, just not in the way that I could comprehend back when I was younger. UTY really helped me in understanding his character and realized just why he was so compelling. Now he's one of my top favorite UTDR characters. I still hate this stupid flower though, I wish the worst for him /j /pos.

And Clover, I did not expect to attach myself to this child so much. Clover's personality is rather hard to get unless you were really looking in between the lines and other easily missed dialogue or in-game narration. Thankfully, I am the kind of player that remembers really small details, especially when it comes dialogue and narration. I do admit that I project to Clover a lot, my fics are a testament to that. However, I did enjoy them as a character and protagonist in their own right, removing all biases will not change that. They are one of my comfort characters and favorite characters of all time.

Combining the two, we get Lucky Patch. I do see why most people I've seen in the fandom might not like this dynamic, it's not for everyone especially if you aren't into peeling off layers upon layers of a character. Though, I am really happy that the Lucky Patch enjoyers are much more present here on Tumblr. If you don't look closely or take things at face value, Lucky Patch is a toxic dynamic built on lies and cruelty. Even when looking further, you cannot deny that aspect. But what makes them compelling is that this dynamic is mostly driven by the characters and their psychology. Especially Flowey's. If you do not understand the character, you will most likely miss the intricacies that make them, them.

Clover and Flowey's relationship span across all timelines and routes, so taking their relationship from one route only is not the way to go. That's the reasoning to the most common complaint I see when it comes to them, most non-Lucky Patch enjoyers only see their relationship from one angle or route. Most of the time, they take it from the vengeance route or neutral. My reply to that is that their relationship develops as the routes change. From vengeance, neutral, to pacifist, their dynamic changes in accordance but you can see why when you look closely at the context being given to us throughout their interactions in each route. At the end, you will understand why Flowey lets Clover go. Why he spew his little speech at the end of the true pacifist end.

In other words, I love these tragic doomed toxic codependent flowers so much and I will commit atrocities to defend them.