#So I think this is a bit what is happening in this confrontation

[ssa-dado]

7 - Cogito, ergo Sum

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: slow burn, sad just sad stuff, angst

Summary: On a train to Riverhead, you confront buried memories of your father’s death and the complex emotions stirred by Peter’s welcome back party, where Hotch’s past with Haley left you feeling like an outsider. Hotch, haunted by memories of his abusive father and first love with Haley, grapples with his choices and regrets. Meanwhile, Hotch and Peter clash over your safety and personal boundaries on the job, discovering the next target of a series of poisonings. Warnings: Grief, domestic violence, emotional abuse, anxiety, CM case. This is quite sad

Word Count: 4.5k

Dado's Corner: Not me sobbing like a kid while writing this haha. Poor Aaron you deserve a hug. That said, I experimented a bit with the style of this chapter - it's quite cinematic. I drew inspiration from Suits' 2×08 where Harvey goes to visit his father's grave and the narrative interlaces flashbacks, present and the characters' point of view so beautifully. Also - this has a sister chapter coming up next so don't worry.

previous chapter ; masterlist

The train rattled gently as it made its way toward your hometown, Riverhead, each passing mile pulling you deeper into a past you had long avoided. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the tracks was a steady, relentless metronome, marking each second that brought you closer to face your father’s grave.

You glanced up to see a little girl holding her father’s hand, her tiny fingers wrapped tightly around his as they made their way to a seat just past yours. The sight was simple, ordinary - something that happened every day - but today, it felt like a punch to the chest.

Watching them, you felt the train become a catalyst for everything you’d been trying to bury; the pain surged, raw and unfiltered, hitting you all at once. The easy affection between them, was a reminder of what you could never have again. Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill as you stared at the floor, trying to swallow the ache of everything you’d lost. In that fleeting moment, the emptiness of your own hands felt unbearable, as if the absence of your father’s presence echoed a thousand times harder in the quiet hum of the train.

You stared out of the window, but the passing trees and fading buildings blurred into the background, their muted colors mingling with the fog of your thoughts. You’d taken the rare step of taking a day off to make this journey, a day that was supposed to be about finding some semblance of closure, or at least confronting the loss you’d tucked away behind your work.

But you hadn’t been able to think only of your father. Your mind kept drifting back to Peter’s welcome back party the previous week. Where you sat at the table, Gideon’s words lingering in the air, the concept of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis feeling painfully apt in that moment.

“Everyone, this is Haley,” Hotch said, his voice carefully controlled. “We… we go way back.”

Only now you could clearly see at how Haley smiled, but her eyes were constantly on Hotch, her presence radiating a sense of ease that only came from years of knowing someone deeply. “It’s been a long time, Aaron,” she said, her tone gentle but layered with unspoken memories. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You watched the interaction with a heavy heart, feeling like an outsider in your own team. The connection between them was undeniable, and for a moment, you felt a pang of jealousy, a sharp twist in your chest that you hadn’t prepared for.

You had just started to let your guard down with Hotch, to allow yourself to see him not just as your stoic coworker who would crack a joke every once in a while - but as someone you could trust, someone who understood you. And now, here was a piece of his past that you hadn’t been privy to, thrown in your face without warning.

As the evening wore on, you tried to engage, to laugh at Rossi’s jokes and nod along with Gideon’s stories, but your mind kept drifting back to Hotch and Haley. You couldn’t help but feel the sting of not knowing this part of him, of realizing that no matter how close you’d gotten, there were still walls between you.

At one point, Hotch caught your eye from across the table. His expression softened, a silent question in his gaze, as if he could sense your discomfort. But before he could say anything, Haley leaned in, pulling his attention back to her, and the moment passed.

Gideon, ever observant, leaned closer to you, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over you.

“You know, Y/N,” he said thoughtfully, tapping the cover of the book you’d bought for Hotch, “Hegel’s all about finding balance. Sometimes, the only way forward is to let go of what you thought you knew and embrace the contradictions.”

You nodded, but the words felt too close to home. You weren’t sure how to find balance in this moment, how to reconcile the sudden wave of emotions crashing over you. All you could do was hold on and hope that, somehow, things would make sense again.

Now your mind was buzzing with a mix of emotions: shock, confusion, and a sinking feeling of being completely blindsided. It was in the way Hotch and Haley exchanged glances, the comfortable proximity, the shared history etched in every small gesture. It hurt more than you’d ever thought it would, making everything sounded distant, muffled, like you were underwater.

The gathering had been a lively affair, full of laughter and shared stories, but a specific moment kept replaying in your mind: Haley’s warm smile as she said goodbye to Hotch, “It was really good to see you, Aaron, I’m glad you’re doing well. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.”

Hotch nodded, his expression warm yet tinged with a hint of sadness. “Yeah, Haley. Take care of yourself. See you around.”

With that, she gave a small wave to the table and headed back to her group of friends, leaving Hotch standing there, momentarily lost in the past. As he returned to his seat, you could see the way he was grappling with the emotions stirred up by the unexpected reunion. He caught your gaze briefly, offering a small, almost apologetic smile that only deepened your sense of uncertainty.

As she walked away, Rossi had thrown a smirk Hotch’s way, raising an eyebrow as he quipped, “So, old flames burning bright again?”

Hotch rolled his eyes, though there was a faint, embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Rossi, don’t start,” he warned, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“Oh, come on, Aaron,” Rossi continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Haley’s quite a catch. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little lovestruck.”

Hotch sighed, but there was a softness to his demeanor that hadn’t been there before. “It’s not like that, Dave. We… had our time. It just didn’t work out. She wanted a family, a stable life. I was too caught up in my career, trying to make it into the Bureau. We were just… heading in different directions.”

There was a pause as the table absorbed his words, the rare glimpse into Hotch’s personal life catching everyone a little off guard. You could see the flicker of understanding in his eyes, the acknowledgment of choices made and paths taken, and it resonated deeply with you. It wasn’t just about Haley; it was about the sacrifices, the regrets, and the constant pull between duty and desire.

You had stood on the sidelines, listening, and telling yourself it wasn’t jealousy you felt, but something else entirely. Hotch and Haley’s history was full of things you couldn’t touch, memories you couldn’t rewrite.

The ease between them that felt unreachable, at least for you. It highlighted your own struggles, the way you and Hotch danced around each other’s guarded edges, each too closed off and too stubborn for way too much to admit the walls you’d built were anything but necessary. You had worked hard to break through those barriers, inching closer to something that resembled real friendship with Hotch, but seeing him with Haley made it clear how far you still had to go.

One of your coworkers, ever the instigator, smirked and raised their glass, turning the conversation light again. “Ah, first loves. We’ve all been there, right? High school sweethearts, college crushes, and then… life happens.”

They nudged Peter playfully, their grin widening. “I bet you’ve got some stories, too. You and Y/N? Seems like you two have your own history.”

The comment, though playful, struck a chord. You could feel all eyes momentarily on you and Peter, the unspoken insinuations hanging in the air. Peter chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface. “Oh, come on, let’s not dig up the past. Y/N and I? We were just kids. We studied, we got into trouble, and then we grew up.”

Rossi, always enjoying a chance to stir the pot, raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? ‘Just kids,’ huh? I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Seems like more than just studying to me.”

Peter shot you a sideways glance, his smile both teasing and sincere. “Well, you know me, Dave. Always mixing business with pleasure.”

You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your ears. “Please, don’t encourage him. Peter was more like the annoying older brother I never asked for.”

The table erupted in laughter, and for a moment, the awkwardness eased. But underneath it all, there was a thread of unspoken tension, a reminder that you and Peter’s relationship, much like Hotch and Haley’s, was layered with complexities that no amount of jokes could untangle.

Hotch watched the exchange quietly, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it understanding? Regret? You couldn’t quite tell, but it was clear he was processing his own thoughts amidst the lighthearted teasing. The parallels between his past and what was unfolding now weren’t lost on him.

Then memories shifted, drawing you deeper into the party’s ambiance: the clinking of glasses, the chatter of old friends reuniting, and Peter’s infectious laugh as he moved through the crowd.

You remembered the moment he found you in the corner of the room, handing you a glass of wine with a casual, “So, are you ever going to let me take you out on that date?”

You had laughed it off, deflecting with a joke. “You’d have to catch me when I’m not buried in case files.”

Peter’s smile had softened, and he leaned against the wall beside you, his eyes searching yours in that disarming way he had. “I’m patient. You know that.”

There it was, an offer that seemed perfect on paper. Peter was kind, funny, and someone you could talk to for hours without feeling the need to perform or pretend. He had always been a constant, someone who understood your messy family dynamics and never judged you for them. Yet, for reasons you couldn’t quite name, you had hesitated.

It wasn’t just fear that a relationship might ruin your friendship, though that was part of it. No, this hesitation was something deeper, something that had started to shift within you over the months you’d been at the BAU.

The job had changed you, had made you see the world differently, and maybe that change had rippled into the way you saw Peter, too. He was familiar, a comfort you could rely on, but when he looked at you with that earnestness, you felt a strange dissonance, like you were two notes that no longer harmonized as they once did.

You shook off the thought and turned back to the scenery, trying to refocus. The landscape outside shifted, becoming a blur of rolling hills and scattered houses, but all you could see were memories of the afternoons you’d spent with Peter.

He was a piece of your past that felt safe, steady, and uncomplicated. You remembered the day he’d chosen your mother as his thesis supervisor, the excitement in his eyes as he explained why.

“She’s brilliant,” he had told you, sitting at your kitchen table, his hands animated as he spoke. “I mean, I’ve read everything she’s published. Working with her is like… I don’t know, getting to play with a master.”

Your mother had smirked from the kitchen, where she was brewing tea. “I’m not sure if ‘play’ is the word I’d use,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “But I’m glad you’re eager. I could use someone with your enthusiasm.”

Those afternoons felt like moments frozen in time, filled with academic debates that stretched into the evening. You would sit with Peter, surrounded by books and papers, discussing everything from human behavior to obscure psychological theories. Your mother would occasionally join in, her sharp insights cutting through Peter’s eager optimism, and you would feel an odd sense of belonging, of being seen and understood in a way that was rare. You and Peter fit so easily then, like two pieces of a puzzle that made sense together.

So why now, when Peter had finally asked, did you feel that familiar comfort turn into something that almost felt suffocating? It wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was something more complex, more tangled.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but whatever it was, it had kept you from saying yes. Part of you wondered if it had to do with the person you’d become at the BAU, the person who had learned to live in the shadows, to thrive on the unspoken and the unsolved. There was a distance between the you that Peter knew and the you that existed now, and you weren’t sure how to bridge that gap.

As the train chugged closer to Riverhead, you let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of your own thoughts settle in your chest. This trip was supposed to be about your father, about facing the memories you’d buried along with him. But as the scenery continued to blur outside your window, you realized it wasn’t just him you were here to confront. It was yourself, and all the tangled, unresolved things you’d left behind.

.

Back in his apartment, Hotch stood motionless in front of his closet, the faint hum of the city outside barely reaching his ears. It was supposed to be a simple, mindless task: changing out of his work clothes, slipping into something comfortable to signal the end of another long case. But that morning, the weight of the past lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating, refusing to be ignored. Seeing Haley again had shaken something loose inside him, memories that he had tried to bury beneath layers of duty, responsibility, and the unyielding armor of his carefully crafted stoicism.

He stared at the closet door as if it were a portal to another time, a past version of himself that he had spent years trying to forget. His hand hovered over a hanger, hesitating before he finally pulled the door open. He reached for a pair of sweatpants, the movement automatic, but his fingers brushed against something unexpected, something soft and familiar. He pulled it out, holding it up to the dim light of the room. It was an old pirate hat, worn and faded, buried at the back of the closet like a forgotten relic.

The sight of it was enough to send a rush of emotion coursing through him, his heart tightening with the weight of memories long left untouched. It was a small, silly thing - a costume piece from a high school play - but it held the echoes of a time when life had felt simpler, when love had been a lifeline rather than a distant, unattainable dream.

Hotch turned the hat over in his hands, his thumb tracing the worn edges. It felt lighter than he remembered, the fabric frayed but still holding the shape that had once made him feel like someone else - someone braver, someone who didn’t wake up every day terrified of what the morning might bring.

Holding it now, he was transported back to those days in high school, when he had first met Haley during their school’s production of The Pirates of Penzance. He could still remember the nerves that twisted his stomach into knots as he stepped onto the stage, feeling every bit the awkward, shy boy who never quite knew how to fit in.

His father’s presence loomed over every aspect of his life, a dark, volatile force that made every day feel like a minefield. Mornings were the worst; he’d wake up before dawn, his heart pounding with the dread that his father would already be up, the stale stench of whiskey on his breath and anger simmering just below the surface.

Every morning, Hotch would lie still in his bed, his ears straining to hear the slightest sound - a creaking floorboard, the clink of a bottle, the unmistakable thud of something heavy being thrown against the wall. He’d close his eyes tightly, his breath catching in his throat as he braced himself for the inevitable: the harsh sound of his father’s voice, slurred and laced with venom, cutting through the stillness of the house like a knife.

“You worthless piece of shit,” his father would sneer, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched. The insults were always the same, a relentless barrage of contempt that felt like punches to the gut. And sometimes, they were. The bruises left behind were easy to hide, but the fear lingered, seeping into every corner of his mind.

But then there was Haley.

Haley, with her bright smile and infectious laugh, had entered his life like a beam of light piercing through the darkness. She was everything his world was not: warm, kind, and unafraid to be herself. He could still see her as she had been that first day, standing backstage with an easy confidence that seemed to light up the entire room. He had been fumbling through his lines, tripping over words as he tried to keep his hands from shaking, feeling the familiar grip of anxiety clawing at his throat. But then she had turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Not bad, Hotchner,” she teased, her voice light and teasing, breaking through the wall of his self-doubt.

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, her touch gentle but grounding. “But if you’re going to be a pirate, you’ve got to look the part.” She reached up and tilted the hat on his head, adjusting it with a flourish. “There. Much better.”

He had laughed then, a rare, unguarded sound that felt almost foreign to his own ears. It was a laugh born of something deeper than humor - it was relief, joy, and a sense of being seen in a way he never had been before. That moment had been the start of everything: the stolen glances, the whispered secrets shared between classes, the way she’d lean in close, her eyes bright with something that made the whole world seem less terrifying.

Haley became his first thought in the morning, replacing the dread that had once greeted him when he opened his eyes. Instead of the anxiety that his father would be there, ready to strike, his mind was filled with thoughts of her: the way she smiled, the sound of her voice, the softness of her lips whenever they kissed, the easy way she’d tease him about his nervousness on stage. She was his anchor, the one person who made him feel like he wasn’t drowning in his own fears.

Every morning, instead of waking up with his heart racing at the thought of his father’s rage, he’d wake up thinking of Haley. He’d think of their rehearsals, of the way she’d roll her eyes when he messed up a line but would always follow it with a grin that told him she was proud of him anyway. She had made him feel safe, like maybe, there was more to life than the fear that had defined his every waking moment.

Hotch hadn’t just fallen in love with Haley; he had clung to her like a lifeline. She was the first person who had shown him what it felt like to be cared for, to be valued for who he was, not for what he could endure. She was his sanctuary from the storm that raged inside his home, and for a while, she had made him believe that he could have something good, something real.

But as he stood there now, holding the hat, those memories were tinged with the bittersweet realization of what he had lost. The love that had once saved him had crumbled under the relentless weight of his ambition and the demands of his career.

He had chosen the Bureau, chosen to bury himself in the pursuit of justice, thinking that if he worked hard enough, if he dedicated himself to the job, he could finally be free of the shadows that haunted him.

But in the process, he had lost Haley. He had lost the last piece of innocence that had made him believe he could balance it all: love, career, and a future untangled from the pain of his past. Now, the hat felt like a symbol of everything he had tried to bury, a reminder of the boy he used to be and the love that had once made him feel whole.

Hotch closed his eyes, a wave of grief and regret washing over him as he placed the hat gently back in the closet. The memories of Haley, of the warmth she had brought into his life, were still there, but they were shrouded in the painful truth that he had let her slip away. He had spent so long running from the fear of his father, trying to replace it with something brighter, but in the end, he had pushed away the very thing that had saved him

The shrill ring of his phone cut through his thoughts, jolting him back to the present. “Hotchner,” he said, masking the turmoil beneath his usual calm.

Gideon’s voice came through the line, urgent and clipped. “We’ve got a situation. A series of poisonings in Long Island, targeting public spaces. Libraries, parks, shopping centers. It’s escalating, and the unsub’s leaving messages. We need you here, now.”

Hotch glanced back at the pirate hat before slamming the closet shut. “I’ll be there in twenty,” he replied, shoving the memories aside as he grabbed his coat and headed out the door. There was no time to dwell on the past; the present demanded his full attention.

At the BAU, the team gathered around the conference table as Gideon outlined the details of the case. The poisonings were strategic, each attack aimed at places where people gathered, spreading panic through the community. The unsub’s taunts came in the form of cryptic messages, each one hinting at the next target.

Hotch’s jaw tightened as he scanned the crime scene photos, feeling the familiar pull of duty override everything else.

“We’re splitting up,” Gideon said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Hotch, you and Peter will head to the latest crime scene. Rossi and I will cover the first.”

Hotch nodded, his face impassive as he gathered his things. He was already mentally mapping out the approach, compartmentalizing the emotional weight of the morning. But as they drove, Peter, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, tried to break the tension.

“You know, about that bet I won,” Peter began, glancing over at Hotch with a hint of a smile. “The date… with her. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it special.”

Hotch’s eyes stayed fixed on the road, his expression tightening at Peter’s words. The mention of you - the team member who had started to break through the cracks in his own carefully guarded exterior - sent a surge of conflicting emotions through him. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Have you really thought this through?” Hotch asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “You and her, both in the field, both seeing the worst of what people are capable of… it’s not as easy as you think.”

Peter shrugged, trying to maintain his casual demeanor, but there was a defensive edge creeping in. “We’ve always been good at separating things. She gets it - she’s smart, one of the smartest people I know. We can handle it.”

Hotch’s frustration boiled over, his tone sharpening. “It’s not about being smart, Peter. This job… it changes you. It gets into your head, your heart. And you’re fooling yourself if you think it won’t affect you both. What happens when you’re forced to make a choice - her safety or the job? How do you keep that from clouding your judgment?”

Peter’s smile faltered, and his eyes flicked toward Hotch, the beginnings of anger flashing across his face. “You don’t think I know that? You think I haven’t thought about it every damn day since I realized I wanted more with her? At least I’m honest about where I stand. I’m not hiding behind this job like it’s the only thing that matters.”

The tension between them was palpable, the car’s interior charged with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. Hotch’s gaze remained fixed on the road, but his mind was racing. Peter’s words hit closer to home than he cared to admit, scraping against wounds that had never fully healed. Peter’s willingness to embrace his feelings, to take the leap Hotch had always hesitated to make, stung in a way that was hard to articulate.

“You don’t get it, Peter,” Hotch said finally, his voice quieter, more resigned. “You have no idea what it’s like to live with the consequences of those choices. I’ve seen what it does to people, how it tears them apart. This job… it doesn’t let you have a normal life, no matter how hard you try.”

Peter stared at him, searching for something in Hotch’s expression that he couldn’t quite find. “Maybe not. But I’d rather take the risk than spend my life wondering what could have been.”

They lapsed into silence, the argument left hanging between them, unresolved. Hotch felt the weight of Peter’s words settle heavily on his shoulders, mingling with the guilt and regret that had been simmering beneath the surface since seeing Haley again.

He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if he even had the right to. Peter’s defiance, his willingness to fight for what he wanted, was a painful reminder of the choices Hotch had made and the things he had lost in the process.

When they arrived at the crime scene, Hotch pushed all of it down, shoving the emotions into that familiar place he rarely let himself go. The crime scene was chaotic, with officers milling about, evidence markers scattered across the library floor.

Hotch’s keen eyes scanned the room, piecing together the unsub’s method, the subtle clues left behind. But something caught his attention: a bulletin board crowded with flyers and notes, too chaotic at first glance, but hiding something.

He moved closer, pulling back layers of paper until he found it: a cryptic message, written in neat, deliberate script. As he read the words, his blood ran cold, the implications settling like lead in his stomach.

The riddle painted a clear picture of the next target. Hotch’s hands trembled slightly as he stepped back, the reality sinking in.

Riverhead.

The place you were right now.

Without a word, Hotch turned and sprinted out of the building, his heart pounding with a fear that went far beyond the professional. This wasn’t just another case. It was personal, and every second mattered.

[giildedgold]

can you yap about ro more pls i love him too :3333

anon i love you, I absolutely can omg

honestly I have so many thoughts on Ro but I will offer you a piece of my mind on him. specifically duality and how they've changed through season 4

duality duo both change in the story and it happens specifically during the castle arc. for ro, I just want to study him on why he changed and how it happened. I know it was during that time but I keep feeling like I miss a vod where it's shown. for mapicc it's a bit more obvious to me

during the confrontation of team awesome's disbanding as zam destroyed their god shulkers, it's roshambo who wants to keep zam around and he genuinely tries to have all three of them stay together.

( "We're a team, Zam. Team Awesome. You can trust us." | "What do you mean? He's part of the team. I'd trust Zam with my life." | "I still care about him." )

and here it is mapicc that quite literally responds with "he doesn't care about you." to the last one. mapicc mentions multiple times that he just wants to get it over with and get to the fight already. he clearly wants to get rid of zam

the part of mapicc wanting to get rid of zam kind of shows through the castle arc as well. we're constantly wondering when mapicc is going to kill zam, because we all know it is coming eventually. but it doesn't and it doesn't (excluding the accidental ban).

until princezam's final stand arrives. (iirc, oops?) and there he fights against duality. obviously, he loses. but that isn't exactly what interests me. what is interesting to me is the way ro reacts to zam's invitation:

"I'm not stopping until I'm banned, so you can come finish it at my castle if you want." / "I'm down."

here, in my eyes, we see the shift in duality. it is ro who is oh so willing to come and finish zam, to put him down once and for all. he almost does. he gets zam to two hearts while mapicc is telling him "ro, stop." and "leave him alone."

eventually, ro does stop. but i don't think it's because he wanted to spare zam. I think there's something about the sentence "we're Gods, not demons." that makes him change his mind. he says it like it's a reminder to himself before he leaves zam. like he needs to remember that to be god, he must be merciful. he's not going to be a demon like the rest are. he's better than them.

then there's this interesting part that still connects to their shift in dynamic. during the team awesome meeting, ro says that it's his duty to keep mapicc in check and to contain him. to make sure that mapicc doesn't destroy everything. he blames himself for the destruction that mapicc caused in his absence, as he wasn't there to keep him under watch.

and once again, during the castle arc, it is mapicc keeping ro back from banning zam. it is mapicc who managed to get through to ro and keeps him from killing him.

this is shown again when mapicc betrays ro during the utopia part. it's his way of keeping ro in control, to keep him from being destructive. and what better place to keep ro in than the dimension where there's no one but him?

because while mapicc destroys the world, ro destroys its people.

[nekohime19]

AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with?

Idk what happened but I just had the funniest idea ever and I just had to write it. So basically it's a reddit post style short story with Wukong's pov. It's an interactive story so the comments will be used as the answers. There will probably be a part two (maybe even a part three) but I don't think I'll write more than that.

Shadowpeach is the end goal and we don't forgive cheaters in this household.

Also sorry Spider Queen, love ya.

AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with?

Okay, so I'm not used to this internet madness but my successor once said it could help sometimes so here I am sharing drama.

So I (5000, He/him monkey immortal) have been dating this other person we'll call Venom (??, She/her, spider demon) for quite some time. And I've been quite happy with her. I know I'm not the most… upfront with things and I have issues (like a lot) but she liked me and we worked well together.

But then we got into more arguments when I began to train my successor (21, he/him, human???), we'll call him… Bud, just because.

The thing is, Venom got this whole world domination plan, which is kinda normal for demons. A lot of demons do that. And it never really bothered me because I was retired (for context I'm a retired hero who used to battle demons a lot). Besides, I had some kind of the same phase in my youth so I just thought it would pass when she'd realize it's kind of a stupid plan, and anyway she never did anything to achieve it.

But then I found a successor, Bud, and I began to train him to protect the city and fight demons, all that heroing stuff. Venom, of course, wasn't happy with that and we began to get into arguments. She accused me of betraying her and I just told her I was a hero from the start so she shouldn't have expected me to agree with her view and all.

Things got really bad when Venom decided to pull a end-of-the-world shit show on New Year when we agreed beforehand to go on a date that day. It felt like she was spiting me. Plus, she destroyed more than half of the city and gave Bud a really awful time so I was, understably I think, very angry with her.

We got on our biggest argument and took some time apart to cool off. But then Venom got back all sweet and said to leave that behind us, so I was very happy and just decided to forget our arguments entirely. I thought she just decided to stop her world domination thing. It wasn't weird for us to do that. Not the first time we got into an argument about heroing and usually we just get back together after a little bit and decide to move on.

But then I started to notice some weird stuff about Venom. Like, she was on her phone a lot more (when she always thought those mortal things were lame before) and she was kinda dismissive and distant. She forgot some of our dates and had some lame excuses, like taking weeks of vacation or something??? When she never did that before.

In hindsight maybe I shouldn't have done that but I'm a monkey you know, so I'm naturally curious. So I took her phone and snooped around a bit.

Turns out Venom was cheating on me with another guy (??, he/him, monkey demon) we'll call him Six. She was seeing him behind my back and all, planning date and calling him “darling”, 🤢. I saw red. Like cheating ???? I know we have our ups and downs but to the point of cheating on me? I was really hurt by this.

So, I don't know, to try to calm down I started to investigate on Six. Like what kind of guy he is? Is he better than me? I was kinda surprised to discover he's another celestial monkey, like I always thought I was the only one?? But also it kinda hurt because Venom was cheating with a cheap dark version of me.

So I got petty.

I wanted revenge. And info. I decided I was gonna confront this Six guy first and pull a Monkey Cop, sussing him out to see if he was aware of my existence and to clarify this situation. Maybe I should have just talked to Venom but, idk, I guess some part of me was dreading the confrontation with her.

So I got to Six workplace with a disguise and all (sunglasses and hoodie). He works in the local theater and, okay, he was kind of good on stage. I'm not gonna lie, he's also kinda cute. Just a little bit. So I approached him at the end of the show, praising him for the performance.

One thing led to another and we kinda took dinner together??? I learned he moved in recently and that he got in a relationship with Venom three months ago (which hurt). But he seemed to genuinely like her and had no idea he was the side piece here. Sooo, maybe I took pity on him, like the guy didn't deserve that? I offered him a bottle and we got waisted. In hindsight, a really bad idea, especially since I have a loose mouth when I'm drunk.

We had a fun night, doing stuff together. He admitted my disguise was shit (which, rude 🙄) and was excited to meet another celestial monkey. We talked about our experiences and we really bonded. Annnd, I got to ruin it and spill the beans, saying the truth about how Venom is in fact my girlfriend.

At first he didn't believe me, but then I pulled pictures and, yeah, he was understandably upset. He kinda looks hot when mad. We got even more waisted and cried and cursed Venom and ate ice cream then we got on my mountain, drank some more of my personal celestial wine collection, and watched Monkey Cop… Then I say “You're kinda cute.” and he says “You too”.... One thing led to another and, yeah, we slept together.

And so now I'm in my bed typing this with the worst headache on earth and with very obvious marks of what happened last night on me. Six is sleeping next to me and I'm questioning my life (and my sexuality???)

WHAT DO I DO????

AITA ??

[shmichaelmeen]

Nothing could have prepared me for how Season 2 ended. Not even the spoilers.

okay i know that we all make jokes about how episode six is insane, there was even one person who posted about how it's comparable to eating a bag of powdered donuts but the last one is covered in cocaine. and i knew how season 2 ended from ~ the internet ~ and everything and due to some traumatic shit happening in the middle of watching season 2 for the first time, i never finished it. so all i knew was whatever i saw online and i didn't think there was anything much more to it.

but oh BOY was i wrong

watching episode 6 felt like a literal fever dream. I didn't even realize what episode it WAS until my friend (who helped me finish watching the season) pointed it out. and i FREAKED OUT because sooooo much happens in one episode. SO MUCH. i genuinely thought that the whole bit AFTER Jim/Gabriel got his memories back - the Metatron appearing, the kiss, EVERYTHING INSANE - was all another episode.

I have a lot to say about how people talked about the ending versus how it was to watch it and see it for myself for the first time but what i will say is this. i tried to go along with everyone making explanations for what happened and justifying that everything about the end, about the episode, heck even about the SEASON makes any sense but i cannot follow that anymore. to put it simply, there's a LOT there and i don't think at this time we CAN make a nice neat explanation. and that's the whole point. the whole point of the ending, the whole point of Nina and Maggie's ending, is that rarely in life (even i guess in immortal life apparently) is anything simple. when in comes to matters of the heart and Human Emotion, there is never an easy answer. it's messy, and that's perfectly okay. it's allowed to be messy. and that's my approach to trying to analyze season 2. it's okay that it's messy and things may not make sense. it's meant to be that way to represent just how confusing and even frustrating love can be.

everyone loves to bash the miscommunication trope", but why does it work? because it is realistic (a lot of the time, depending on writing of course). it's only realistic that people miscommunicate and that confronting feels for each other makes things confusing and awkward. that's how the ending was written. and i think that's perfectly okay.

as much as i am a Tier 1 Overthinker, this is one time where I'm willing to accept that the situation is unexplainable until we have further information (yay season 3!!!!!!). this also isn't an "anti-theories" post either. i think those posts, as well as all of the "what if the curtains are just blue" people, are trying to hard to be cool and different by not thinking critically about a piece of media when media is designed to be thought about and analyzed. and trust me, i do like entertaining theories, but I'm just staying super open-minded for the time being. if anyone has any niche theories i'd love to hear them because I'm willing to entertain any possible answer until we get the truth :)

(oh and before anyone says anything about how it's my own fault for looking at spoilers, that's not the issues. spoilers aren't the thing I'm talking about. it's people trying to make definitive answers and put together the puzzle perfectly when we don't have all the pieces. not having an answer feels uncomfortable, but that's also the whole point.)

[strandsofgold]

Mystra's design and why I love it actually

I get the sense that people are kind of disappointed by Mystra's design in Gale's Act 3 confrontation. People have quite literally written "That's not a goddess, that's Jeesica from English 101" or something along those lines.

But I personally feel like that's the point.

When Mystra presents herself in a way where she looks entirely human, all slender limbs and flowing hair, it's so easy to forget that she's a goddess. That she has near unlimited knowledge and power.

Groomers, and abusers by extension, always use the same rhetoric, and one of the things they like to say is "you came onto me, you initiated it, I didn't have any power to resist you", and I think that's kind of what Mystra is going for here.

Gale, when he looks at her, doesn't see a goddess but a woman, his ex-lover, someone he has convinced himself he betrayed and hurt more than he himself was hurt.

It makes her more empathetic in the eyes of both Gale, but also any outsiders who might not know the full story.

Imagine if Mystra presented herself to Gale the way Shar does to Shadowheart. It would feel wrong because while Shar is doing her utmost to put Shadowheart in her place, to hurt her as much as she can, to remind her of her unfathomable power, Mystra is not trying to do that to Gale.

Quite the opposite actually. She is trying to make him feel like he is the only one to blame for everything that happened, that she is being kind and magnanimous by letting him earn her forgiveness, and that there is simply nothing she can do to help him in any way shape or form (even though we've already learned that she could have easily eased his pain and suffering by letting the orb feed off the weave from the very beginning). That he, in fact, owes her.

So while her design is a little flat to look at, and I do feel that they could have maybe done something where she maybe changes appearance for a brief moment as her temper rises (a bit like Raphael shedding his human glamour), I really do like that she's as human-looking as she is.

It feels very deceptive and manipulative which is very much in line with her actions throughout the game.

[chasing-posts]

I like to imagine Dai was a constant figure in Kakashi's life, and not just because of Gai.

I have scenarios in my head, of Dai saluting Kakashi in the street after he graduated the academy when he was 5/6, or when Kakashi became a chuunin Dai congratulates him on the promotion. Being a snarky/ traumatized child, and seeing how most adults are sarcastic or talk down to him about his promotion due to his age and father, I imagine Kakashi actually talks down to Dai at first. Mentions that just because he's older does not mean they are equals, and that Dai'll probably never be promoted.

Dai however, instead of being prideful or boisterous, thanks him for the "advice" Kakashi gives. And thanks him for the support. Dai explains that he would never dare to look down on a ninja who outranks him. He knows Kakashi earned that promotion and that he looks forward to be in the presence of such a spectacular ninja.

Kakashi is... confused. And a bit weirded out by Dai but... thankful? Keeps to a professional relationship where like Gai, he sometimes watches Dai from afar. Watches him give 100% into every day, no matter the mission. And sees him mean comments wash off his back like water off a duck's back. And in comparison to his own father, who could not handle the harsh critism and scrutiny, watching Dai walk through all that publec scrutiny with eas and with his head held high is...commendable. Even cool.

I also like to imagine Dai one day was by Kakashi 's house while looking for a lost cat, and noticed his chickens were not fed that day/ the yardwork/ outside of his house was a little shabby. So he feeds the chickens, cleans their coup and gathers their eggs, before he cleans up the front of the house a little. Maybe fixes a minor repair before heading off, since he knows Kakashi was away for a mission and that he must be busy/ too young to know how to fully take care of a house. So he decides to make a detour to feed the chickens every day, until Kakashi returns.

Kakashi finds out its him right away because Dai has a recognizable scent and he confronts him on why he was near his house while he was away. Dai simply explains he meant no harm, and just didn't want Kakashi's chickens to die while he was away, or for their eggs to go bad. He's sorry to intrude on his home though and will avoid doing so in the future if Kakashi insists. Instead, Kakashi asks about the small home repair Dai did...and if he knew how to fix leaky faucets too.

And so, Dai starts coming over and helps Kakashi with some home repair. Kakashi tries to pay him for the man's services, but Dai is simply unable to take money from a child and says its his neighborly duty, and asks Kakashi to accept some challenges from his son more often instead, and to never let their eternal rivalry lose its spark.

I think a final turning point happens when one of Kakashi's chickens, his FAVORITE chicken to be precise, gets sick and he's not sure what to do. He ends up calling Dai who after examining her, finds out she is egg bound. Kakashi starts to think this is it and its time to kill her, but Dai stops him and with some quick thinking, he's able to help the chicken and get her to lay the eggs that were clodding her system, and keep Kakashi from doing something he regrets.

Its the first time Kakashi ever hugs him, before letting go all embarrassed!

From there on, Dai's a constant figure in Kakashi's life. Helping him with household repairs, cooking him a meal and leaving it in the fridge when he's away on long missions so he doesn't have to cook on his return, and telling him fun stories every time they meet. Dai becomes a cool figure in Kakashi's eyes, not for his ninja status, but for his resiliance and kindness. And in the end it helps him make a closer bond with Gai too.

In the end its just nice to imagine Kakashi having such a kind uncle figure in his life, who loves him like a second son.

[fragmentedblade]

The way Luocha's conversation and confrontation with Jing Yuan was established in terms of a xiangqi match (or whatever it's called ingame in the English translation; "starchess", I think?) was great, especially with how Jing Yuan congratulates his last move.

How Luocha's course of action is laid is also very typical of xiangqi strategies for what I've been reading, especially when it comes to the use of the general piece. Jing Yuan has to abide to the law, can't move, and is forced to let Luocha get away with what he wants to do.

[hecksupremechips]

God every day I think about Akane’s breakdown in door 3 because there really is no correct way to interpret that and every possibility makes me crazy. Like she sees this fucked up corpse whom Junpei (and the player, depending on how they play) believes is their friend Snake, but she knows that it’s Guy X. It’s a man she very intentionally put in the game for this very purpose, so that he could die horrifically and be displayed for everyone to see. And she has a full mental breakdown over being trapped in this room with the corpse, being trapped by Junpei, to the point where she rips out her hair and starts bleeding from how much she bangs on the door screaming to get out. And fuck, there’s so many possibilities like

Akane could be feeling genuine terror over the sight of the body, and with that remorse. She made this happen, she wanted this to happen, and now she’s forced to quite literally watch the damage she’s caused unfold. She can detach herself from his murder easily in other timelines where she doesn’t have to look at it, and she can sleep easy knowing that her hands are technically clean because she didn’t do the literal killing. But she can’t do that here, and she has to face the fact that not only did she happily cause this death, she failed her mission. She isn’t going to survive, and now this man is dead for nothing and everything is her fault

On the other hand, her entire breakdown could be completely fabricated in order to keep playing the role of the damsel in distress who is so innocent that the very sight of blood drives her to insanity. The interesting part about this is that if she could fake such a horrific breakdown, just how much of her personality a facade? We know she wants revenge, for everyone from Cradle to feel even an ounce of the pain she and so many others went through, but we don’t get to see the extent of how much she feels this way. We never hear directly from Akane about her feelings on any of the original organizers, just her note about her desire to punish them. She hates them, but does she see their deaths as a necessary evil, or does she feel joy and satisfaction at watching them go? It’s absolutely horrifying not knowing, not being able to see her true feelings, not knowing just how real or fake she is, the extent of her madness. Perhaps she doesn’t even know that herself

IN OTHER WORDS, it’s fucked

[aroacettorney]

when will aup sidestories return from war and stop leaving me bitter about how the main story ended

[dutybcrne]

Me BSing hcs like: The fact that Kae is not only able to create a shield when he is dangerously low HP but also the fact that he is able to regenerate HP when he hits opponents with Frostgnaw is definitely due to him receiving his Vision when Diluc had tried to kill him in their Confrontation...but could it be possible that his familial ties to the Abyss Order could have influenced that HP drain of his-

[time-is-restored]

i have literally nowhere else to put this i apologise for the spam. the absolute best thing to come out of s3 trent is without a doubt the fucking earnestness... like in s1-2 he always came across as a very self-assured kind of guy, who knew how he came off (ie: intimidating) and enjoyed it. but seeing that paired with him being silly + completely relaxing in certain company??? pulling ridiculous faces at vodka + scrunching up his nose when he smiles @ colin + making the most ABSURD 'i really wanna say something right now but i feel like im interrupting' noises ive ever heard in my fucking LIFE??? its like. he is cool as shit and he is self assured AND he can make dumb fucking sherlock holmes jokes and dance ridiculously. its like!!!! he's lame but he's also not bc he's exactly as confident in being lame as he is being cool. do u see the vision. he has killed the part of him that cringes!!!! its just.. that unshakeable self confidence that u see in his fucking swaggers into frame includes all of himself + his different moods and eccentricities and that's just so based to me idk. unironically live ur best life wear the loudest combination of prints and patterns and primary colours uve ever seen in ur life while espousing the virtues of extended museum hours!!! contain multitudes! get silly with it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[dent-de-leon]

wAIT just thinking about what Tal said...I really hope that doesn't imply that Lestera might have poisoned herself--

[bijoumikhawal]

the thing I'm struggling with in RTD (since a big theme is intergenerational trauma) is less instinctively pulling back from depicting fucked up shit that happens irl (though that happens) and more in Garak's case trying to balance fucked up shit happening to him and not making him fall into a weird position. I can't write him as doing fucked up shit so much- partially because he's had a bit of character development from the occupation, and partially because he's not in a position of power to act in certain ways.

[mortalityplays]

This is a dangerous sentiment for me to express, as an editor who spends most of my working life telling writers to knock it off with the 45-word sentences and the adverbs and tortured metaphors, but I do think we're living through a period of weird pragmatic puritanism in mainstream literary taste.

e.g. I keep seeing people talk about 'purple prose' when they actually mean 'the writer uses vivid and/or metaphorical descriptive language'. I've seen people who present themselves as educators offer some of the best genre writing in western canon as examples of 'purple prose' because it engages strategically in prose-poetry to evoke mood and I guess that's sheer decadence when you could instead say "it was dark and scary outside". But that's not what purple prose means. Purple means the construction of the prose itself gets in the way of conveying meaning. mid-00s horse RPers know what I'm talking about. Cerulean orbs flash'd fire as they turn'd 'pon rollforth land, yonder horizonways. <= if I had to read this when I was 12, you don't get to call Ray Bradbury's prose 'purple'.

I griped on here recently about the prepossession with fictional characters in fictional narratives behaving 'rationally' and 'realistically' as if the sole purpose of a made-up story is to convince you it could have happened. No wonder the epistolary form is having a tumblr renaissance. One million billion arguments and thought experiments about The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas that almost all evade the point of the story: that you can't wriggle out of it. The narrator is telling you how it was, is and will be, and you must confront the dissonances it evokes and digest your discomfort. 'Realistic' begins on the author's terms, that's what gives them the power to reach into your brain and fiddle about until sparks happen. You kind of have to trust the process a little bit.

This ultra-orthodox attitude to writing shares a lot of common ground with the tight, tight commodification of art in online spaces. And I mean commodification in the truest sense - the reconstruction of the thing to maximise its capacity to interface with markets. Form and function are overwhelmingly privileged over cloudy ideas like meaning, intent and possibility, because you can apply a sliding value scale to the material aspects of a work. But you can't charge extra for 'more challenging conceptual response to the milieu' in a commission drive. So that shit becomes vestigial. It isn't valued, it isn't taught, so eventually it isn't sought out. At best it's mystified as part of a given writer/artist's 'talent', but either way it grows incumbent on the individual to care enough about that kind of skill to cultivate it.

And it's risky, because unmeasurables come with the possibility of rejection or failure. Drop in too many allegorical descriptions of the rose garden and someone will decide your prose is 'purple' and unserious. A lot of online audiences seem to be terrified of being considered pretentious in their tastes. That creates a real unwillingness to step out into discursive spaces where you 🫵 are expected to develop and explore a personal relationship with each element of a work. No guard rails, no right answers. Word of god is shit to us out here. But fear of getting that kind of analysis wrong makes people hove to work that slavishly explains itself on every page. And I'm left wondering, what's the point of art that leads every single participant to the same conclusion? See Spot run. Run, Spot, run. Down the rollforth land, yonder horizonways. I just want to read more weird stuff.

[hecksupremechips]

RE danganronpa not having the best writing I was talking to a friend the other day about v3 about how it sucks that they set up Kaede to be the protagonist but then killed her off because while yes, Shuichi is a very good protagonist and he’s the only one that really gets interesting character development, Kaede could have so easily been an insanely interesting protagonist if she got to live because she has plenty of room to grow since she’s very clearly scared shitless and is deeply insecure about her ability to motivate and lead the group, but she smiles through it and lies about her feelings so much that the player doesn’t even know about her creating an elaborate murder scheme. And I realized that the way to keep her as a protagonist is for there to be a way that the first trial ends and someone else is found to be the killer (for example it could be Tsumugi if she weren’t the mastermind, or maybe someone else was in the library and killed Rantaro) and they get executed and thats that. Then at the end of the chapter we get a scene where Kaede is alone in her room and sighs in relief as it’s revealed that she hatched an elaborate plan to kill the mastermind but she wasn’t found guilty, either because she wasn’t the actual killer or because she was being protected by the mastermind. And so we the player have to proceed with the new knowledge that Kaede not only wanted to kill someone, she actually went through with a whole plan to kill someone and we didn’t even know about it and neither did any of the characters. And Kaede is on edge because on one hand she has to live with the fact that she was perfectly okay becoming a killer and that she failed to kill the mastermind so the game is going to continue and someone else was unlucky and got executed instead of her,but on the other hand she’s relieved that she wasn’t the one who died and that she was given another chance to find the true mastermind and no one has to know what she did. And as the game progresses it gets more and more stressful for her because she tries to keep up the positive energy but she’s living with this massive secret and she can’t let anyone find out about what she did and she finds herself still wanting to kill the mastermind so we the player don’t know how much we can trust Kaede anymore since she’s lying to everyone including us and she can very well kill again if she wants to

[thegempage]

eeeuuuuggghhh i'm gonna bitch in the tags a bit bcus this isn't like. serious enough to put more effort into it than that but i also don't want it to sit in my brain.