#[does this have anything to do with the fact that I’m doing things I like and people acknowledge that I’m good at it even though I suffer

[ultravioletbrit]

“chill” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 331 words

Regulus breathes a sigh of relief. After two hours working with James on this Potions project they’re down to the last few steps.

“…Once boiling, stir ten times counterclockwise.” James reads and Regulus stirs.

“Remove from heat and cast a cooling charm.” James continues and Regulus does as instructed.

“Allow potion to chill for three hours; stirring four times, clockwise, every twelve minutes—"

“Do what?” Regulus cuts James off.

“Allow potion to chill for—"

“I heard you, Potter.” Regulus snaps. “We have to stir every twelve minutes? That means we’re stuck here for three hours.” He grumbles.

“Not necessarily.” James says.

“Yes, it does. You can’t do anything in twelve minutes. By the time we would leave we’d have to turn around and come right back.” Regulus complains.

“First of all, there are a lot of things we could do in twelve minutes.” James grins.

“You’re finished in less than twelve minutes? I feel so bad for all your partners.” Regulus deadpans.

“That’s not what I meant, but it’s good to know where your head’s at.” James smirks. “What I was going to say was, we don’t both have to stay. I can stay and finish.” James offers.

Regulus stares at him for a moment. James is giving him an out, he should take it and run. But for some reason, something’s stopping him.

Regulus huffs and crosses his arms. “Well, what things were you talking about then? That we can do in twelve minutes?” Regulus tries to sound nonchalant.

James smirks again. “I meant something like exploding snaps or chess.” James pauses. “However, while I’m usually not finished in less than twelve minutes, if you had something else in mind, I’m sure we could get creative.” James lifts a suggestive eyebrow.

Regulus glares at him for a moment then sighs. “I guess we could play chess.” He rolls his eyes.

So, while the potion chills, they play chess, they play exploding snaps, and by the second hour they do in fact… get creative.

[weltraum-vaquero]

Swan song

Professor Viktor x TA Reader

[PART 1]｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆[PART 2] ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆[PART 3] (coming soon)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆[AO3 link] ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

Summary: You’re a bright phD student who won’t shy away from a challenge. Getting the most notorious professor at the University of Piltover to hire you as his assistant is one of them.

Tags: Modern AU, SFW (for now…), DILF professor Viktor, romanticizing and eroticizing borsht, lab shenanigans, reader being filled with equal parts shame and lust

Word count: 7.8k

Notice: This fic is written with a transmasculine reader in mind, but that won’t come into play at all until the final third chapter of this mini-series.

Notes: A little something something while we await season two ;] The draft for this post deleted itself twice now. If the formatting looks wonky (especially in the texting section), NO, it doesn't. Shut up.

He didn’t lie. 

Which is all the more shocking, considering you attend his 8AM lecture on the very same day, and he seems more bright and alight than you’ve ever seen him.

When did he find the time?

Though there isn’t a daunting amount to your thesis just yet, you still want to believe you’ve written something quite substantial over the past months. 

You toss one glance around yourself before you follow him into his office after his lecture, and you find the stack of papers you’d left on his desk last night looking positively devoured, in the most… academic way possible. Scribbles and notes litter the margins, the edges of the papers are already somehow lightly worn. 

He must have read it multiple times.

“Coffee?” He offers.

“Yes, please.”

As he gropes the machine in search of its switch again, he cocks his brow at you. “And what was that for?”

You frown. “What was what for?”

“That… glance, before you followed me into my office.” The switch clicks, the light comes on. “Looking around like you were being followed.”

“Oh,” caught in the embarrassing act, you shrug. “I don’t know. Being cautious, I guess. Students have been looking at me a little funny, lately.”

“Much too late for caution, I’m afraid.” 

Uh oh. 

As he retrieves two paper cups, you’re left wondering what exactly that should mean.

“Why’s that?”

“I thought you were well aware of the fact that rumors would start, um… circulating the moment I made it public that I had hired an assistant.” Coffee trickles into the cups, a soothing little melody. Viktor leans against the wall beside the machine as he watches the cups fill.  “I’ve always been adamant about not needing one. It is natural for people to have questions — and to come up with, eh, answers — when I suddenly do.”

The notion of the answers students might have come up with swirls around in your brain. 

You wish they were right.

You’re glad they’re not.

You look at Viktor.

“Do you mind it?”

The coffee stops pouring. Viktor does that thing again, spreading long fingers apart to grasp both cups. And he’s quiet — for a beat longer than he should be.

“No. There are more important things to worry about than… gossip.” He sets the cups on the table, then takes his seat. He hesitates for a brief second, craning his neck before he fixates on you, motionless. Waiting. “Do you?”

“Trying not to.”

The answer makes him… deflate, somehow. It’s barely visible, for just a fraction of a second his chest sinks, before his tone is back to his composed cadence.

“You will get used to it,” he assures. “Now, onto more interesting matters — your work.”

Thank god. You don’t know how much more of the awkward tiptoeing you could have handled.

“Yes.” Your heart leaps into your throat. Acting normal has never been so difficult. “What did you think?”

“Very impressive.” He slides the stack of papers towards you. “I have made some… suggestions here and there, should you wish to take them into consideration. But, I think you struck gold with your hypothesis. Should you need a conversation partner, guidance, anything at all — I would gladly be at your service.”

“Thank you, Viktor. I really appreciate this.”

At the sound of his own name coming from you, something in him shifts. Shifts with an unfamiliar near bashfulness, he stifles a little smile into the rim of his paper cup, the corners of his eyes crinkle, he settles into his seat a little further.

“But you never held up your end of the bargain,” you point out. That snaps him out of it.

“Ah, yes. I did not.” He continues to hide behind his cup, before he finally seems to decide to take a metaphorical leap, as he sets it down and stares down at it. “I fear the unfortunate truth may be that when it comes to research, I either work better with a partner, or that… Cecil is right and I need to slow down. Though I’d guess the former is more likely.”

“You used to work with, uh…” you’re not sure how to approach the topic, “Talis, didn’t you?”

“The five basic principles of applied arcanism are commonly referred to as Talis’ princies, you do not have to feign uncertainty to appease me.”

So you drop the attempt to tiptoe around the subject, and ask, plainly:

“Why wasn’t your name added on?”

Viktor scoffs. “Talis-Sidorov-Sviboda has a terrible ring to it. Or so he’d said. And admittedly… I was more of a conduit than the co-author of his idea. He said we would name the next big thing we would discover after me, but… well, you know how it is. I dedicated myself to teaching, he retired to lead a quiet life in his gaudy mansion with his sports cars and his purebred German shepherds after he married some businesswoman.”

Though his story does line up, those aren’t necessarily the rumors you’d heard. There’d been talk of more than just a mild dispute of names, and… well, there had been… something between Talis and Viktor. But that’s about all you know.

Under your gaze, Viktor grows suddenly uncomfortable — both with the subject and the fact that he might be able to tell you know more. He’s quick to redirect the conversation.

“As for my research: I have been studying the laminal hexoin cascade in stabilized hexgems in various matrices. And though bold, I have been attempting to figure out the ideal matrix — something that will allow for close to a hundred percent energy renewal and render all other sources of energy obsolete.”

”That is bold,” you say. Your other thought, you keep to yourself: it also sounds impossible. You suppose stabilizing hexgems 20 years ago was also something thought impossible — and yet, Viktor hadn’t shied away. If anyone is apt for the job, it is him. “Any luck so far?”

“Partially. They have been yielding favorable results, but not enough to be viable energetic alternatives as of now.” He takes his cup again, bringing it to his lips in a rushed movement, drinking a mouthful, rather than a sip. Once Viktor sets it down, his hand remains on the table, fingers tapping on the shiny surface once, twice— “I could use a theorist to assist me with a few things.”

The implication dizzies you. Is he…?

But then he slides another one of his drawers open, and retrieves a stack of papers. Slanted handwriting, barely legible — you’re by now intimately familiar with it: his cursive. It litters the pages, in different inks and in pencil, diagrams, sketches… just looking at it makes you hungry to read it.

He smiles as if he’s read your mind, again.

“I was thinking it could be you.”

—

You’re invited to his office for lunch break the very next day too. And though he assures you there is no pressure in having to read through his notes by then, you disregard it.

It takes you a reread to be able to make sense of all his scribbles, but… it’s brilliant. He’s brilliant. 

It should stop surprising you by now — his ideas, his drive, his curiosity, his mind — but with every single time Vikror impresses you anew, he becomes something more distant.

As you’re marveling at his intricate weaving of concepts, it strikes you, unpleasantly, that this is the same man you’d wanted to devour just days ago. The man who’s made you coffee, the man whose sharp eyes fold at the corners when he smiles. 

You’d have deified him, had he been your teacher. You still do, especially now, after you’ve seen more of what his mind is made of. The mere notion of him becomes terribly out of reach, and you’re plagued with guilt for that night. Guilt for having tainted such a man with your thoughts. 

And yet, you still can’t help but think of his neck, the soft pink of his chapped lips, the hollow of his cheeks. You wonder what his mouth tastes like, and you want to slap yourself on the wrist for it. You should have, because minutes later, you wonder about worse things too. The scent of his skin, the coarseness of his body hair, how far up under his navel it might reach.

And when you finish reading his notes a second time and bring the paper to your nose to sniff it — hoping for a trace of him — you realize you have a problem. A serious one.

It torments you for the rest of the night, through the hours you spend writing up some suggestions and ideas, all the way to when you switch off the light, and hug whatever pillow’s within reach close.

When you get the urge to tilt your hips against it, you decide to get up and splash your face with water.

And you wish you could do the same thing the very next day on your lunch break, when you’re standing in the doorway of his office and he’s eating borscht. The sweet-tangy smell of vegetables, beef and beets makes your stomach growl, but your physical hunger is long lost on your otherwise preoccupied brain.

The beet red of the soup has pigmented his lips. They look kissed raw, puffy, ripe. A lavish speck of colour on his otherwise pale face, it draws your gaze and does not let it stay somewhere more respectful.

You want to taste them.

He does it for you, raspberry pink tip of his tongue darting over the plush of his lips before he swallows and finally greets you.

“Sorry,” you say, and it comes out tense, near horrified. You’ve caught him eating soup, for chrissakes, not being bent over his table. Oh, god. Why did you have to think about that? ”I’ll come back later.”

“No,” Viktor gestures to the empty seat across from him. He screws his thermos shut, and puts it away. “Please, I’ve been waiting for you. Sit.”

And you do, like the dog you feel like you are right now.

“Did you manage to find the time to read my notes?”

Oh, did you.

“I… followed your example and made some suggestions of my own. But on separate pages. Here.”

His reaction is more than what you’d hoped for. It’s more than the impressed raise of thick brows that had kept you fueled last night, it’s more than the smile you’d been hoping for. 

“You are unbelievable,” he grins, and takes what you offer, pushing his glasses up his nose before he starts reading. You selfishly use the distraction to stare at his lips again. He mutters to himself as he reads, pink mouth molding around whispered jargon, nodding. “Yes, this… this is exactly what I’d hoped for, when I’d asked for your assistance. Your fresh set of eyes is invaluable. I hadn’t thought of approaching the modification from that angle.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the page for even just a moment, flipping it surprisingly fast, and taking it with him as he leans back in his seat. 

And decides to torture you.

Viktor traces the pad of his own thumb over the curve of his bottom lip as he takes in your handwriting. The give of the flesh under his fingertip hypnotizes, the slight drag of rough skin on soft pink one, your mind is long gone.

You think of rough fingertips on his lips, on his chest, rough fingertips on the pasty white of his gaunt lower stomach, rough fingertips in coarse hair. Rough fingertips dipping between his milky thighs, rough fingertips on where he runs just as pink as he does on his lips, rough fingertips dipping, slipping on slick skin—

You need to stop.

And you most certainly need help.

“Is something the matter?”

It feels like you’ve swallowed your own brain whole when he speaks, because your skull rings hollow when you try to come up with a reply that isn’t incoherent babble.

“Wh— me? No. Why?”

And because embarrassment loves to stick around once it has made its presence known, the stars align for the next social disaster: your stomach growls. Loudly.

“Did you not have lunch?” Viktor asks.

“I… didn’t get around to it,” you admit.

“I won’t take up too much of your time, then,” he assures. If he knew just how much of your time he’s started taking up — and the fact that you wish you could give him what is left of it to him, too.  “I would like you to work alongside me on my research. But if you don’t feel like you can squeeze another project into your presumably busy schedule, I understand. I would be glad to have you merely as… a colleague to consult with, as well.”

Is that even a question? He’s offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. You would be an idiot not take it. 

And an even bigger idiot to turn down more time spent with him.

“You don’t even have to ask,” you joke. “Yes. I would be thrilled, Viktor.”

This is his first smile you witness when his pretty boyishness doesn’t shine through. It’s a gentle quirk of his lips, no teeth to be seen, just tenderness. It makes your heart leap to be the cause of it.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Thank you.”

Silence.

Just as you’re about to breach it — he does it first.

“Would you be free for lunch tomorrow as well?”

He watches you from below long, dark lashes as you give a breathless yes.

—

“I brought you something.”

It’s the last thing you expect as you step into his office at noon, upon exchanging hellos.

You’re alight. With curiosity, above all else. And with worry — why would he bring you something? What will you do to reciprocate? 

“Thank you,” you say, though you have no idea what for just yet. “What is it?”

“I saw you eyeing my borscht yesterday.” There’s a glint in his eye that suggests more, so much so you can’t decide between flirting or digging a hole for yourself in the hardwood floor of his office. 

The middle ground is standing in his office awkwardly as he unzips his backpack.

He retrieves two thermos bottles: the one you’re already familiar with, and another that looks older, more worn, and sorely lacks the sticker you’ve so come to love and fixate on and dream about. “I, eh, I made you some. In case you wouldn’t get the chance to eat before you came here.”

Your chest swells so much it hurts. 

He made you soup?

“You… Viktor, this is… thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to. Have a seat.”

You practically jump into the seat across the table from his — a seat you’ve come to associate as yours, in spite of being well aware of the oppisite.

As he screws the bottle open and pours some steaming soup out into a paper bowl — god, he’d brought paper bowls — his eyes flick to you.

“But if you don’t care for borscht, you don’t have to—“

“I do care.”

And that rings true not just for the borscht.

It rings true for the soup he brings you the next day too, it rings true for every word that passes his lips. And it rings true for the time you start to spend in the insane coffee shop queue to surprise him with his preferred order and a slice of cake (a different one each day, until you figure out his favorite: cinnamon coffee), it rings true for the dark blue roughed up thermos he lets you take home the day you don’t finish the soup he brings you because you’re just so busy talking.

It’s November before you know it.

As the days grow colder, it’s not rare to be finding warmth by lavishing in Viktor’s attention as you ramble on about ideas — either for his research, or your thesis. All while he intently follows your thoughts with a smile, stopping just to shave another mouth-half-full’s worth off his cake of the day with his plastic spoon.

And once he savors the last bite, Viktor almost always flips it hollow side down, sliding it down the swell of his tongue within his mouth, removing it from between puckered lips. His cheeks hollow, he holds eye contact all the same, and it’s a mental image that haunts you. A mental image you project in your mind, nestled between the apex of your thighs. The thick of his tongue. The cushiony seal of his lips, the suction of his cheeks. 

It never becomes any less distracting than the first time it happens. 

You startle when Viktor speaks as he sets down the plastic spoon into the now empty packaging. 

“I would like you to accompany me to the lab sometime soon. When would you be free?”

You’ve been before — but just a handful of times. Mainly for him to demonstrate or disprove certain guesses, or test conclusions you’d reached together. 

“I’m free right now,” you suggest.

Viktor shakes his head. “I have a lecture in an hour.”

Right. 

“I mean… I think we could make it in an hour.”

“I prefer to take my time.” Viktor leans back in his seat, stares thoughtfully at the clock on his wall for a moment. “Would seven PM work for you?”

“Uh…” you mentally go through your schedule for the day, “yes. It should. I might be a little late, though. How about… seven fifteen-ish?”

“Good.” The flow of the word is syrupy, yet his next sentence comes out surprisingly peppy with excitement: “See you then.”

—

Though you’re well into the final week of November, it never stops bothering you just how quickly the sun sets. By the time you get to the lab, the air’s gone cold, dry, and the darkness is heavy and thick.

Viktor waits for you just outside the university lab, under the halo of the street light — perhaps just a hint overdressed for the cold, in your opinion. It’s certainly trench coat season, though his is surprisingly long, reaching somewhere along the middle of his shins. The hand he hasn’t tucked in his pocket holds his cane and is clad in a leather glove. Around his lengthy neck, a red knitted scarf lays in chunky, impenetrable layers, reaching almost all the way to the swell of his top lip and his ears. You can hardly see his smile from underneath when he spots you — but his eyes give him away. 

“Right on time,” Viktor’s tone has just as much pep to it as a few hours ago, perhaps even moreso. He rolls his shoulders, before he subtly nuzzles further down into his scarf, shying away from the biting cold. “Let’s get inside.”

He leads the way into the building, its warmth embracing you the moment you step in. The tip of your nose and your fingertips feel like they’re beginning to thaw, tingling just a hint. As you go to take off your coat, you notice Viktor isn’t in a rush. He rests his cane against the wall before he unwraps the thick, wide scarf from around his neck, folding it. He sets it on a nearby table, shucking off his trench coat, slender shoulders under a wool sweater. You watch closely as he then takes his scarf and stuffs it into the sleeve of his coat before he hangs it up. 

There’s something stiff, painful, about how he moves. You wonder if it’s the cold.

“What?” He watches you with appeased amusement.

Caught red-handed, you jump, still halfway clad in your coat.

“Nothing,” you reply, scraping for a way to deflect from your obvious staring. “Not a big fan of the cold?”

“Never.” He says it like it’s a very serious matter. “I still don’t know how I made it through my first eighteen winters in St. Petersburg.”

“You grew up in Russia?”

He laughs through his nose like you’ve told him a half good joke. “What gave it away? The accent? The surname?”

“No, I just thought… Svoboda is a Czech surname.”

With how his smile turns knowing, self-satisfied, you’re suddenly back in his office again, uncertain and nervous and asking for a job as his assistant. He could taunt you with the knowledge that you’ve looked up his last name, embarrass you a little, play with you.

But he isn’t that man anymore — not to you. This time, he feeds your curiosity, albeit just with crumbs.

“My mother’s,” he clarifies. “Sidorov is Russian — my father’s.”

Oh.

“It’s nice that they used both their names. I’m assuming that wasn’t… common, back then, and back there.”

“It wasn’t, and they did not.” Viktor waits for you to hang up your coat, watchful gaze making your every movement feel loaded with static that’s about to snap. “I added hers when I changed my name.”

Changed his name?

The image of the sticker on his thermos turns up fresh in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder…

“Well? I was hoping we could discuss more in the lab, but if you prefer the coat hanger…”

Goddamn it. Focus. You need to focus.

“Sorry.”

You catch up, then slowly follow Viktor down the hallway, into the small lab he has been assigned. It’s one of the less grand ones, but it has all it needs — from a pretty new hexion accelerator to a humble whiteboard. It smells sanitized, sterile, ozonic.

You assume your usual seat by the whiteboard while he sets up. It still doesn’t feel… right to let him do all of that by himself, but he insists upon it, so, you stay out of his way. Viktor tidies up the space just a little, finding his goggles among the mess. He slips them onto his head, elastic pulling back his soft hair into a fluffy grey and brown mess. His cane thumps against the linoleum with every hurried step — though he doesn’t seem to be hurrying on account of you being there as much as excitement to show you.

Once he’s done, he sits in front of the accelerator, slipping his goggles on, and nods for you to come. Which you do — you’d be at his beck and call beyond just the academic context. For a moment, you pluck the inviting tilt of his head and the quirk of his lips out of their context, and you plant it atop your own bed, him in just a loose shirt, underwear, lax with freshly received pleasure. More comfortable than he’s ever been, all because of you. Beckoning for you. Come here. Smiling at you when your knee dips into the mattress, tucking his index under your chin as you crawl to him, reeling you in for a kiss.

“Come closer.”

God help you.

You comply with a wildly beating heart, stepping forward until you’re close behind his sitting form, watching the accelerator over his shoulder. 

He smells nice. Like an indistinct, aromatic cologne, covering up the natural, gentle musk of his skin. You have to resist the urge to dip your head down and trace the tip of your nose along his spine, from where the bones of his neck show to where the scruff at the back of his head goes thicker, fuller. You wonder if he’d shiver as you let the scent of him imbue you… you wonder if he’d lean into it, if he’d tilt his head for you, let you dip your face into the slope of his shoulder, where his scent’s more potent.

The mere thought of him, vivid in your nostrils and clinging to your palate and the floor of your brain, rattles you with a shiver.

“I thought I’d rather show you than tell you,” he explains, wrapping both pale, bony hands around the handles of the accelerator. Steam hisses from the exhaust, flooding the room with more ozone, and gently, but certainly, the gem starts to spin behind the glass panel, beginning to levitate out of its socket, illuminating the room. 

God, you should have put on goggles too, it’s making your eyes hurt. It’s a welcome reminder as to why you chose to spend most your days staring down a blackboard rather than the thing itself. The screen right above it is more of a familiar sight to you: numbers, reading the rotations per minute, as well as energetic output, steadily increasing. 

It whirrs, magic static whirling up around the blue orb, electricity crackles. 

You can see the appeal of this over a blackboard. But you’d still take the chalk. Especially considering the deafening noise. 

Nevermind the damn goggles. You need to remember to bring some ear plugs.

“Watch the panel.” Viktor raises his voice over the hum of the machine, and turns to you, watching you from behind foggy lenses with a smile. You wish you could see the way his crow’s feet deepen. It rumbles harder, so much so Viktor almost has to shout the next thing he says, which is a shame, because his usually playful lilt is lost in the noise of it. “Not to… spoil the outcome of this experiment for you, but I implemented the conclusions we came to last week, and, it is safe to say…”

With a well-timed click and tug on a lever, the machine disengages, and the gem drops back into its socket under the influence of gravity. Its violating light returns to a faint, blue glow, like an artificially lit aquarium; fluctuating and undulating gently in its intensity. The potential energy indicator’s numbers climb back up, steadily, but faster than what you’ve seen before. 

Much faster.

You can’t help but grin with excitement. “It’s regenerating fast.”

Viktor smirks at you over his shoulder like you’re sharing a sacred, intimate inside joke. 

“It is.“

You await the verdict with a bated breath.

“How much?”

Viktor’s smile only grows, like he’s about to give you a present. And, all things considered, this is going to be one, in months’ or maybe even years’ time.

“A thirty-seven percent recovery after usage within an hour.” Viktor spins in the lab stool to face you with the theatrical self-satisfaction of a magician who just sawed his assistant in half and is waiting for the applause. You nearly forget to step back to give him the space for it, so much so your knees knock together. But there is no chance for you to apologize, Viktor is unbothered, sliding the goggles up his forehead enthusiastically, his show of complacency ditched in favor of pure excitement. “That is more than I’ve ever achieved thus far. Thanks to y—” 

His voice sticks in his throat, turning into a pained hiss.

His hair’s tangled in his goggles.

“Oh, wonderful,” he grits out sarcastically. 

A frustrated half-sigh half-groan rumbles in his chest as he pulls again and only makes things worse.

“Could you get me a pair of scissors? I should have some in the third drawer over there.”

“Wait. At least let me try first,” you insist. Reluctantly, you step closer, and after a moment’s hesitation, Viktor lowers his head for better access like a feral animal letting itself be pet for the first time. He sits still, the sound of both your breaths suddenly loud in the tall, quiet room as you’re forced to step even closer. “Could you…”

You nudge his ankles apart with the tip of your shoe.

He listens.

After a stuttering, fragile exhale, Viktor spreads his thighs. 

You take the space offered. And you try not to think about kneeling, about making a home for yourself between his thighs.

“Do you think you can do it?”

You wish he’d asked you that about any number of things, except for the goggles tangled in his feathery, soft hair.

But yes. You think you do.

It would have been a terrible shame to cut it — though some shorter, bluntly cut hairs that sit a little further back near the top of his head tell you his suggestion was not the product of a new idea. Carefully, you pull whatever hairs are looser from between the lens and the bridge of the goggles, though a strand remains stubborn. 

You try to ignore the warmth of his breath on your shirt, the intoxicating, soapy, yet distinctively human smell of his scalp, and the mesmerizing ratio of grey to dark brown, the subtle heat on the sides of your palms and wrists, resting on his head for stability.

As you separate another few hairs from the stuck strand and accidentally tug at them, Viktor has no reaction. Beyond swallowing thickly, and sitting through it dutifully. 

You wonder if he’d act just the same, had you bunched his hair into the spaces between your fingers and tugged — simply biting his tongue and chewing through the pain — or if he’s leaned into the force, moaning with it, and god, you’ve hurt him, and you haven’t even apologized.

“Sorry.” You sound twice as genuine — mainly because you apologize for much worse than the inflicted pain. “Almost done.”

“The scissors would have been faster,” he half-jokes.

His voice sounds different. A hint more… strained. He shifts in the seat, wipes his hands on his slacks.

“Would have been a shame, though. You have pretty hair.” The last part of the sentence positively escapes you, and once you hear it, you freeze. Your brain scrambles itself trying to add something that will fix the inherent following awkwardness, the horrifying realization you just called your boss pretty, the fact that it’s true, the fact that—

Viktor flinches with another accidental tug of his hair, and so do his thighs — jumping with the surprise, clenching together until they squeeze around yours. But they’re gone just as fast, flinching away with horrified urgency. Before you get to savor the supple flesh pressing into your own in another new perverted way, before you get to imagine his ankles locking behind you, tilting and rubbing your hips into the hug of his thighs.

You need. To get. A grip.

“Sorry.”

You continue on in silence, and thank everything above he at the very least can’t see the way your hands shake, because he’s staring at the floor like he could drill a hole into it with just his eyes. 

You should have gotten the damn scissors. As if through divine intervention, the rest of his hair comes loose not soon after.

“Okay. All done.” You smooth the slightly crinkled, but now free strand back down into the rest of his soft hair. 

Viktor’s dainty features come into view from below his face framing pieces as he tilts his chin up. His lips quirk into a gentle smile, his eyes sparkle in the faint blue glow, soft shadows under the hollow of his cheeks and the swell of his lip and the tip of his nose and the bone of his brow. You wish you could immortalize him in whatever way he’d let you — a sculpture, a painting, a poem. He looks ripe for kissing, eyes half-lidded and twice as dreamy as he peers at you.

You’re going to see him like this in your mind’s eye later tonight.

Nestled between your thighs, or kissing down your stomach, molten gold under long, dark lashes, sitting atop carved marbled bone.

“Thank you.” He says it quietly — like it would break the sudden holiness of the moment to say it any other way.

He’s so warm. 

You could kiss him. See what the ozone of the room tastes like in the slick of his mouth. You wonder if he’d let you, if he’d suckle your tongue into his mouth in a show of submission, or if he’d bite your lip, licking your teeth, pressing, pushing, make you earn the privilege to taste him. 

You wonder if he’d hold you, or if his curious hands would roam, tracing the front of your stomach, or your spine, or press to the middle of your breastbone like he wants to see where you’d split open for him down the middle like a ripe peach. You wonder if he’d let you dip a hand down the front of his slacks, you wonder if he’d tilt his hips into it like he’d been aching for it, aching for you. Scorching your hand with want, materialized in slick or straining hardness. You wonder which it’d be.

From where you’re standing, the distance between the apex of his chin and the space where his slacks stretch between his thighs is small — and your gaze takes the leap, searching. But the material dips and curves in such a way that you’re left none the wiser, and with nothing but a disgusting realization.

You’re staring at your boss’ crotch.

You step back from the heat between his thighs, painfully awake, aware. It squeezes and wriggles in your chest like you have a parasite lodged in the chambers of your heart. 

You’re disgusting.

You need to put an end to this.

“You’re welcome, professor.”

With that, you’re practically bolting from between his thighs, to stash the scissors away again.

You’re neglecting your job, you’re putting it in jeopardy. Putting yourself in jeopardy, risking all the rumors circulating becoming a shameful truth, you’re risking the first man who ever kept up with you, followed you where you wanted to go and took you further — you’re risking it all because he makes you unbelievably fucking horny. 

And it’s absurd. Embarrassing. You need to get a hold of yourself. 

“I was… thinking, actually,” you begin, and want to punch yourself over how Viktor perks back up from where you’d left him. “About some things regarding my thesis that I’d like your thoughts on.”

“Oh. Of course.” You have got to be imagining the subtle disappointment in his tone. The second you let yourself believe it’s more than just a figment of your make-believe, is the second you will be doomed. 

Viktor, with all his years and experience, would and does know better than to fall for his assistant. You know he does.

“What’s on your mind?” He prompts after your prolonged silence.

If he knew the half of it.

—

You’re late.

And it’s a direct, shameful consequence of last night’s lusting, the time you’d spent frustratedly tossing and turning and thinking of his mouth and his eyes and his scent, before you’d given in past midnight, and humped your hand into completion.

Thinking about him under you, about pressing your face into his neck, about pressing him into the mattress and rutting into him until he gushes and his tired body sings for you and his voice cracks. Until he breaks for you, until pleasure itself oils and unscrews all the biological cogs of his body and he comes out unstrung, reborn.

Viktor’s in a wheelchair. 

And he looks worse for wear than you’ve ever encountered him before, slumping in the chair and massaging his eyelids with his thumb and index, seemingly gathering his thoughts. He’s dressed even warmer than usual, in a loose but thick, dark red sweater. There’s a colorful knitted blanket folded and set over the tops of his thighs. 

Viktor doesn’t acknowledge you when you come in and sit near the whiteboard, simply resumes his lecture as he regains his mental footing. And he goes on for a while, not sparing you a single glance, as he goes through powerpoint slides today, instead of his usual writing and hand drawn diagrams. 

He’s at it for a while, not as fast as his usual pace, but undeniably concise, certain. Until…

“The energy output increases proportionately to the spin, and, with powerful enough matrices, some hexgems can create force fields of their own. This is a particularly common phenomenon in unstabilized gems as well, though with the activation of their force field, those tend to also create… eh…”

Viktor stops, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. He frowns, mumbling something in another language, which, judging by the heavy consonants and squeezed vowel, you’d assume it’s Russian. The word must be slipping his mind, so you decide to help out.

“A shock wave.”

Viktor’s gaze cuts. He’s looked at you with disinterest before, sure, but this… 

He doesn’t even turn his head to look at you, just eyes you from the corner of his vision like something unworthy of acknowledgment. You wish you could swallow your words back up.

“Yes,” he says. “Thank you. A shock wave.”

You don’t say anything again for the rest of the lecture. 

Once the door falls shut behind the last few students who have left the room, Viktor turns to you. You wish you could shrink; and it feels like you do, when he finally speaks.

“I appreciate your intention to help — but do not interrupt me again. I know what I’m trying to say.” He sounds utterly unlike himself, both spent and angry. “I don’t need help. Especially not in the middle of a lecture.”

“Sorry.”

That alone softens him up a hint. He looks away, rubbing his thumbs against the wheels of his chair, before he speaks again. Calmer. 

“Just… do not let it happen again.”

As he slumps in his seat, massaging at his temples, you understand that his anger… might not have been as directed at you as you’d initially thought. He’d been snippy when his back hurt — having switched to a wheelchair must mean he’s in a lot more pain now.

And you understand his frustration. He’d just gotten himself an assistant a few months back, and started a new project — looking like he requires help in front of his students is certainly not doing his reputation right now any favors. 

“But if there’s other things I can do to make your day a little easier, I’d like to do them.”

“No, thank you.” He shakes his head, before he grabs both wheels and advances to where he’d left his bag. As he starts packing his things, he stops again, quietly groaning somewhere in the back of his throat. “Where did I put my pen…”

Viktor eventually finds it right behind his water bottle on the table, tossing the both of them into his bag, shutting it tightly. You expect him to wheel himself over to the ramp that leads to the exit, but he just hangs his head, massaging at his temples again, before he looks at you.

“Actually, I’d like it if you went to my office and got me a silver tin box in the… fourth drawer on the left side of my desk. Do you have the key with you, or should I give you mine?”

“I have it. I’ll be quick.”

“Thank you.”

And you deliver on your promise. You don’t run, but you power walk there, and you’re back with (hopefully the right) tin box in the same lecture hall before his break ends.

Viktor takes it from you gladly, popping it open. It contains two foils of painkillers, one already half empty, a small ziploc bag of… gummies, and at the very bottom, some dark chocolate. 

You must have pulled a bit of a face at the contents — particularly the gummies — because Viktor cocks a brow at you, before he faintly chuckles under his breath and pops three painkillers in one go.

After depositing the foil back in the box, he fishes out the dark chocolate bar. It looks to be the expensive kind, something Belgian — Viktor breaks off a piece, putting it in his mouth, before he holds it out to you.

“Peace offering,” he clarifies when you hesitate. 

You’d be a fool to turn him down. You take some — it’s rich, buttery, and melts on your tongue. It coats your mouth with its taste, dark and aromatic and unfortunately not as sweet as you thought Viktor preferred. He’d always favored the almost disgustingly sugary cakes.

“Didn’t think you’d like something so bitter,” you say.

“I do not. It sometimes helps with my migraines,” he tells you. “Sugar makes them worse. A very… devastating discovery to make, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

You wonder if right now is the right time to be curious — and you decide it might be.

“Do the migraines also affect your leg? Or the other way around?” 

“No.” Viktor shakes his head, popping off another piece of dark chocolate. “This,” he gestures at himself, the wheelchair, “was just a very unfortunate… overlapping.”

“Oh.” You grimace in sympathy. “Fun.”

“A punishment for it, more like.” 

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Let’s hope my migraine eases up on me throughout this lecture.” He smiles at you — and for the first time you’ve known him, he looks old doing it. Exhausted. The face of a man who’s seen enough hardship for a lifetime, but has yet to cave under it. 

You wish you could hold him. You wish you could melt it away, kiss it better, love it better. Whatever he’d let you.

You surprise both him and yourself when you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and let your thumb rub a small circle over the wool. 

Though he flinches at the first contact, once something in his brilliant mind unfurls and settles, so does he. Through the cracks, tenderness shines under the fatigue. Viktor can be soft — in spite of everything im his body and his past that protests against it. “Thank you.”

You take your hand away sooner than you’d like — but at the ideal time to keep it from being anything more than a friendly touch.

“I’m glad I could help,” you say.

—

Viktor isn’t there at all next week. 

You come in on Monday to find his office empty during lunch break, and when you attend his lecture, it’s another professor from his department teaching it. The students don’t seem all too excited about the change either — and you leave before it even starts.

Heimerdinger is none the wiser about Viktor’s situation when you talk to him — in spite of their shared history. He simply tells you he’d taken the week off and had arranged for substitutes.

You consider messaging him… and ultimately end up doing so, after some internal debate. You simply text him to get well soon and that you hope he’s getting some well-deserved rest. He replies with just a plain thank you.

Tuesday is quiet. You receive a stack of midterms you need to get through from the substitute, and you do, by Thursday morning. Which is when Heimerdinger messages you.

Dr. Prof. Cecil B Heimerdinger

Good morning! I’m well aware this is on very short notice — but the substitute professor has unfortunately suffered a minor car accident. Not to worry; they only sustained small njury. However, I am finding myself forced to task you with Viktor’s lectures today. Do you think you could take care of that? Thank you.

-Cecil B. Heimerdinger

9:32

Just the thing you needed — teaching two full lectures, entirely unprepared.

Alright. You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You just need to find out what’s even on the agenda for today. You could text Viktor, right? If he answers on time, that is… he’s sick, he might as well be asleep right now. You could call, but… he said only to do that in the case of an emergency when he gave you his phone number. 

Would this count as an emergency?

Your phone beeps.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

There should be a black flash drive in the third drawer on the left in my desk. It has all my lectures.

9:34

Today’s topic is LHC segments naturally occurring in unstabilized gems. Feel free to use my work laptop to familiarize yourself with the presentation before the lecture.

9:35

Me

Thank you so much! 

9:35

His answer comes a few minutes later, just as you fish the flash drive out of his drawer, and plug it into his laptop.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

Good luck 👍 

9:42

It would be a lot easier to get caught up in the desire to snoop around on his laptop if you didn’t have less than 20 minutes left until the lecture. His background is disappointingly the default image, but some of his folders look undeniably tempting — not just the scientific ones, which take up most of the space. There’s some photo albums titled with the year and location: Germany 2011, Czech Republic 2009, among many others. There’s also a photo album titled Persichka. 

Who is that? 

You almost click it. But then you check your watch again and realize you only have 15 more minutes until the lecture, and decide against it.

—

For how utterly unprepared you are, it goes surprisingly well. You stumble, once or twice, but you’re glad to see that even by the end of the lecture, you still have most students’ attention.

After you dismiss the class, you don’t expect questions. But a good handful of them, a little under ten, approach your desk, whispering among themselves, before a hastily appointed representative emerges. 

“We were just wondering,” she awkwardly begins, “if professor Sidorov-Svoboda is alright. And when he’s coming back.”

“Oh.” You hope they’re asking because they understandably prefer him, and not because you did a particularly shabby job. “He texted me just today — he’s doing alright. But I can’t give you an exact estimate for when he’s coming back just yet.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

With that, all of them turn to go. After the last student has left the room, you reach for your phone, and pray you don’t see any other day-altering messages today. 

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

I did not mean for you to have to do this. 

10:11

You unlock your phone and jump straight into the chat.

Me

Don’t worry, it’s alright. I handled it :)

12:02

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

I knew you could.

12:02

Thank you.

12:02

Me

Focus on resting up and getting well soon! 

12:03

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

I have been. I actually feel well enough for company now. Coincidentally, I’ve gotten some ideas for your thesis and I would like it if we discussed them sometime. Would you be free this weekend?

12:05 

He wants to meet? Outside of the university? Undoubtedly for academic purposes still, but your heart squeezes and bounces and pops with the implications. 

No. You shouldn’t let yourself hope for more than just a few formal, at best friendly hours spent together.

Viktor doesn’t want you. He would never want you — he knows better. You know better.

Me

I’d like that! Saturday works for me. Where would you like to meet?

12:05

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

If you’d prefer somewhere on academy grounds like my office or the coffee shop, either would be fine.

12:06

My apartment is also an option.

12:06

The choice is obvious.

[retroaria]

hiiii >.< i saw ur event and RAN to make a request... could i request the dialogue “I do love you, you know…even if i’m shit at showing it.” with rinnie (i wouldve chosen him even if u didnt ask for it because it fits him SO well and i love him dearly) with a fem reader?? i hope i understood everything right and thank u in advance!!!!! take care (⁠ ⁠/⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠)⁠/⁠♪⁠♪

yaaaay rin brainrot!!! thank you sm for requesting!! :)

⋆.˚⟡ Rin Itoshi x fem!reader ⋆.˚⟡

a/n: so many people requested this one! this is very soft and fluffy, i hope you all enjoy :)

˗ˏˋ written for aria’s 1.5k follower event! ˎˊ˗

“Do I remind him? I feel like I shouldn’t have to but I also feel like he just isn’t the type to care about superficial things so maybe I should just-” you were cut off by a rather striking groan on the other end of the line.

“For the love of god, just tell him! He probably doesn’t even know it’s something you’d get so worked up about.” your best friend protested to you over the phone. “What’s the worst that’ll happen? If he feels bad then good, he should be a better boyfriend. And if he gets mad then RUN!”

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic, neither of those will happen. We’re both off today so I’m not gonna say anything, I just want to enjoy my day with him and not make it a big deal.” you sighed out, trying to be content despite the subtle stab to your heart. “I’ll text you later ok? Byeee!”

As soon as you hung up the phone you found yourself prancing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, your eyes falling on the subtly slouched figure of your boyfriend standing over the kitchen counter. He was making a smoothie as he does every morning - strawberry, banana, protein powder - average boring Rin activities, unfortunately not appropriate for today’s occasion.

You’ve skillfully avoided much interaction with him since you both got out of bed, and at this moment you realized you aren’t sure if you could enter a normal conversation with him in your frantic state. Instead of blurting out the first thing that came to your mind which was, “TODAY IS KIND OF OUR ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY AND YOU TOTALLY HAVEN’T SAID ANYTHING ABOUT IT SO I FEEL LIKE MAYBE YOU HATE ME!”, you decided to go with something casual, so you say, “Mmm, protein powder”

“What…?” Rin turns around to face you and raises his eyebrow at you, looking more concerned than confused. It quickly dawned upon you that you were in fact not looking or sounding cool, calm and collected right now.

“It uh…looks like a yummy smoothie!” you hoped deep down that your girlish charms could save you from deepening the awkwardness of an awkward situation with the most awkward guy you know. You twirl around on your feet a bit with your hands behind your back, flashing him a warm smile.

“Are you having a stroke?” Rin asks, and he’s being fully serious by the way. Was everything impossible with this guy? You begin to ask yourself how you’ve managed to survive a full year of his cluelessness, but then you remember you should probably respond before he actually thinks you’re having a stroke.

“No Rin I’m not having a stroke I'm just trying to start a conversation, jeez.” you snap at him with an attitude that must’ve come from the punch of him not falling for your attempt at cute girlie gestures. Rin sighs and turns his attention back to the blender. Great, now you’re sitting in the kitchen with him in silence except the blender is obnoxiously loud which somehow makes it all the more awkward. Finally it stops and he pours the smoothie out into two cups, setting one down on the table in front of you as he leans back against the counter with his in hand.

Two cups? He never does that. Is this his way of showing he remembered? Is this one of many sweet little gestures he’ll deliver to you throughout the day before the big anniversary surprise? Your wishful thinking is practically bulldozed as Rin opens his mouth.

“There’s something wrong and you aren’t telling me.” he states, his deadpan expression felt like it was slicing you up into little pieces. Rin knew you well enough to know that you were holding out on him, and he was having a silent little panic attack of his own at the moment.

“Nope! Nothing, what could possibly be wrong?” you said nervously. A part of you knew that you could hide your feelings better than this, but the thought that he might pickup on your feelings and somehow read your mind kept you on your toes.

“Was I supposed to take you somewhere today?” he asks, tilting his head at you slightly.

“Like I said, it’s nothing!” you chuckle, it’s a weird chuckle though, definitely not soothing Rin’s worries at all.

He flashes you an odd look, his eyes are narrowed and he’s pouting slightly, almost like he literally is trying to read your mind. He chugs the rest of his smoothie and makes his way over to you. His expression turns back to his usual plain face and he lifts your chin slightly before placing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m going to the gym ok? I’ll be back in a few hours and then we can hang out, I promise.” he coos at you before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

He left before giving you anymore time to embarrass yourself with your incomprehensible ramblings - he’s a smart boy. That sweet moment coupled with the promise of quality time together was almost enough to make you forget whatever grudge you were holding against him. However, it wasn’t enough to fight off how shitty it feels to not have your boyfriend there on your anniversary.

You spent the next two hours frantically preparing yourself for Rin’s return. Rin spent the next two hours not going to the gym and driving around aimlessly because he totally lied about that as an excuse to think of a way to make it up to you. While he was blending his smoothie before, he let his eyes wander to the calendar you had hanging on your fridge door - today’s date was highlighted with little green heart. The pieces clicked in his head rather quickly, and instead of speaking up and saving you from your nervous ramblings, he took the opportunity to think up a surprise.

Rin is awful at surprises, not to mention he also isn’t the most creative guy. He ultimately decided it was pointless for him to think so hard about it when he could just go home and apologize. He swallowed his pride and stopped at a flower shop before making his way back, after all, who better to help him decide how the day should be spent than his partner in crime - you!

By the time you heard the front door of your apartment open you were barely half dressed and still losing your mind a bit. Somehow Rin’s two hour gym session turned into forty five minutes and your anxiety was at an all time high. You threw on the closest pieces of clothing you could find and walked out of your bedroom to see him standing in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers and a rather pouty look on his face.

“Hey…so uh, I saw the calendar before…I know I kind of forgot about our anniversary…and uh…I'm really sorry.” he said as he held the bouquet out towards you. His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. You took the flowers from his hands and let out a sigh of relief.

“I was so worried all morning you wouldn’t remember.” you said as you smelled the flowers with a content smile on your face.

“I was so worried you were going to kill me for forgetting.” Rin looked down at you, his pout still lingering as he relaxed a bit, seeing you weren’t so upset with him. “This is just the first year you know, I’ll have like fifty more chances to remember after this.” he chuckled.

“You think we’ll be together for that long?” your eyes widened and you beamed up at him.

“probably.” he said slyly, taking the bouquet from your hands and setting it on the table. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him, his hands moving up to cup your face softly. “I do love you, you know…even if I'm shit at showing it.”

“I know, I love you too.” you cooed at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tender kiss.

dividers by: @toastray

[suzukiblu]

Day ten of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean–it’s nice,” Kon says, smiling just as helplessly into his collar and keeping his eyes on the sidewalk as they walk. “Just, you know, it’s not the kinda stuff you usually get me. Like–it’s just, you know–pretty, or whatever. It’s not for anything. Like, I can’t wear it for you and it’s not, you know, food or a game or anything.” 

Tim did not actually realize that he hadn't bought Kon anything that didn't count as “useful” yet, though given the video games and candy and jewelry he's pretty sure they just have different definitions of what “useful” actually is. Also he needs to take a moment to not burn alive over Kon saying the phrase “wear it for you” again, which definitely takes the full moment, because Jesus Christ. 

That has not gotten any less affecting, yeah. 

“Oh, I guess,” he says in his best imitation of a normal person's normal voice. “I didn't really think about that. I just thought you might like it, so I got it for you.” 

Kon somehow finds a new shade of red to turn that honestly might actually be a Kryptonian-related one, considering the intensity of it. It is, unfortunately, cute as fuck. 

“I mean, I do like buying you clothes and stuff, obviously. You look really nice in that outfit, for one,” Tim says, and Kon glances away again, still smiling helplessly and still just as red-faced. He really does blush so easy. It’s weird, Tim thinks, given how much flirting he does. But maybe Kon’s just the “can dish it out but can’t take it” type, he guesses. 

Alternately, maybe people just aren’t complimenting him as often as he deserves and he's not used to hearing it. 

. . . Tim makes a mental note to pencil in some affirmations in Young Justice’s next training session and also to buy Kon even more flowers than he was already planning to. Flowers that come with little hand-written cards that say nice things about him, specifically. 

“You better think I look nice in it, pretty boy,” Kon says, biting his lip around another grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me all fancied up.” 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I liked the crop top too,” Tim allows, and Kon bursts into laughter and then lets go of his jacket collar and just–beams at him, actually. Just–literally actually beams, brighter than anything in Gotham that doesn’t run on electricity. 

Tim manages not to step off the sidewalk into traffic by Robin-reflexes alone and literally nothing else. 

Jesus, that expression. 

“I like, uh–that,” Kon says, and then blushes a little darker again. “Um–I mean, I like that you, uh . . . like to get me stuff you think I look good in. Uh. I don’t know how to say this without it sounding weird, fuck, just–just I like it.” 

“Oh,” Tim says. The warehouse district in his brain is a lost cause; the fire has officially spread to the docks and across downtown. His mental Gotham is going the way of 1871 Chicago, he’s pretty sure. “Uh–um, good. I’m glad.” 

“It’s just, um–I dunno, it’s just nice to look nice for somebody,” Kon murmurs a little bit shyly, tugging his jacket collar up over his mouth again but still obviously smiling behind it. Tim isn’t sure if that’s a line of thought he should be concerned by after the kind of things Kon was saying earlier, if–“Instead of, you know. For everybody.” 

. . . Tim decides that actually, never mind the concern. Kon can look as good for him as he wants to, if what Kon’s used to is being stuck having to look good for some stupid ad campaign or magazine shoot or what the frick ever. And like–it’s not like he has a problem with Kon wanting to wear things he thinks he’ll like. That is pretty much the opposite of a problem for him, in fact. 

It probably explains the makeup, too. There were definitely not any ad campaigns with glitter eyeliner or nail polish involved. 

. . . not that Tim’s seen all the ad campaigns or anything, just–

Alright, fine, he’s seen all the ad campaigns. That’s just Bat SOP, alright? And definitely only Bat SOP.

[mazzystar24]

Breaks my heart how evil they are to them. I know they're grown men and can handle it and all but they shouldn't have to! Oliver has been so respectful and put so much care into playing buck. He's always been honest about this story being about BUCK, not tommy, and that nobody should be ringing wedding bells

The fact that even the 911 account isn't posting anything because bt fans flood things with hate... and we know oliver sees this shit, he even shut down his comments and DMs. It makes me so fucking sad. We're so close to exploring this beautiful story we've been waiting for and they ruin it over someone who was hired for 4 episodes??

No same the level of care and respect that Oliver has had has been unreal

I say this as a bisexual

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a presumably straight actor handle a queer storyline with this level of respect and understanding

And unlike their fav he hasn’t done it for fame or money or popularity

He has stood up for buck and buck’s bisexuality in cases he didn’t have to

He didn’t have to correct that reporter he didn’t have to make statements in his Instagram calling out bigots he didn’t have to show all this love understanding and excitement for bucks bi arc but he did it even when it’s put him in the firing line and he’s done it with words so well crafted you can tell he fully understands his character and also what bisexuality means to his character

Ik I make jokes but I’m not saying this in a parasocial way- truth is we never know what these actors or famous people are really like- but we still have to recognise good behaviour and the way he has handled this storyline does not elicit the hate and claims of biphobia against him in the least and it’s honestly sad that he has done everything right and is still receiving this from assholes who genuinely do not care or understand what biphobia is

Just because they can’t distinct what the story has been telling them AT EVERY FUCKING TURN and how Oliver tried over and over not to get their hopes up AT EVERY FUCKING TURN and what they built up in their head sometimes with the help of a man after their money. It’s ridiculous

Like not only did he have to turn off comments and DMs he also made a response apparently and probably second guessed himself and deleted it:

And everything he said both here and the interview I stand by, good bi rep doesn’t have to be only fucking if they’re your committed partner y’all are over correcting

Also the claims of biphobia - y’all learn nothing about not assuming sexualities or making these claims huh?

Well at least they’re consistent- when threatened they pretend anything and everything is somehow homophobia cos I (a bisexual ) have been called homophobic so many times by bt fans it’s insane

Rant over cos this is super long but they better leave Oliver stark alone cos that man genuinely doesn’t deserve this shite

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with a bipolar partner

Requested? No! (But they are still open!)

Genre: comfort, some unavoidable angst, suggestive (MDNI)

Sensitive Topics Ahead!

TW/CW: discussions of struggling with and managing bipolar symptoms, up to and including things like self-harm (though this is not explicitly discussed). One suggestive section. 

A/N: This one is also entirely self-indulgent because I’m feeling some type of way right now.

If this topic might be triggering for you, please proceed with caution or skip. If you’re struggling (not just with bipolar, but with anything), I encourage you to reach out for help. Could be a friend, a family member, a coworker or classmate, or a professional. Things like this should not be shameful!! Be kind to yourself, love you. 

Seungcheol

You desperately want to buy an item and Seungcheol knows it. So he casually hands you his credit card (he’ll never be able to stop the sugar daddy allegations, I fear). He’s kind of surprised by how vehemently you deny it. ‘No way, I don’t want to waste your money,’ you’ll say and he’ll roll his eyes. “Baby, I have more than enough, I’ll buy you whatever you want.” The relationship is still somewhat new, so he’s confused when you deny it again, saying you absolutely can’t take his card because you’ll be reckless with it. Does not understand what the problem is with that, honestly, but when you eventually tell him about your diagnosis and particularly how mania works, he’ll pause, if only because of how upset you seem by the topic. It’s fine. If you spending the money is the problem, he’ll spend it for you and he won’t let you feel guilty about it for a single second. 

Jeonghan

Now, I believe Hannie can be a bit of a fashionista. He likes your style. In fact, it was something that attracted him to you in the beginning because it was unique and unapologetic. So when you’re getting ready for a date, he’s confused when you don’t put on the things that you usually do, opting for a baggy sweater and leggings. “Feeling okay?” He’ll ask. “You’re cute as always, but this isn’t your normal look.” You’ll openly tell him that you feel less confident during a depressive episode because the two of you simply do not have secrets, so this is what you want to go with today. You get out of the way, letting him get ready, and you’re kind of surprised when he comes out in equally baggy clothes. He’ll absolutely match your energy, no matter what that means. 

Joshua

He raises an eyebrow when he comes home to find you scrubbing the walls down. “A little spring cleaning?” He’ll ask, but it becomes apparent that it’s not anything ‘little’. The house is absolutely sparkling like you just moved in. This isn’t a problem by any means, but it’s kind of suspicious because you low key hate cleaning and he happily carries the burden of these types of things on a normal day. Still, he knows what’s happening and there’s nothing he can do to stop the manic episode. He’ll just have to let you ride it out. But it won’t stop him from changing clothes and asking what’s next on your list so he can help. 

Jun

Knows he can’t do a whole lot about the typical mood swings that you have periodically, but when you tell him that some of these mood swings are not totally random and can actually be triggered, he becomes the most observant person you’ve ever met. Keeps a little list in his notes app of things that you’ve mentioned before and the things that he’s simply observed that switch your mood. He tries to help you manage your stress at work to prevent a depressive episode and encourages you to limit your caffeine intake to prevent mania. He intentionally stops buying alcohol and keeping it in the house because it’s not a good combination with your medications. He buys you a light for light therapy during the winter when the seasonal depression kicks in. He helps you find a nighttime routine that works for you so sleep disturbances aren’t so prominent. Really is the sweetest and most thoughtful.

Hoshi

Man, thinking about this one makes me emotional. Say the relationship is new, but it’s been so, so good. You match his energy so well and he really feels like you get him, you know? So he’s kind of surprised when his calls and texts go unanswered for a while. After a few days, he finally goes to your apartment, flowers, coffee, and a bag of pastries in hand just in case he did something wrong. Your roommate answers the door and points to your bedroom with an ominous warning. You look like you haven’t moved from the bed in a few days. Your clothes and sheets are wrinkled, laundry is overflowing from the hamper, and dishes are piled up on your bedside table. You come right out and tell him about your diagnosis and that you’ve been in a depressive episode, and that you’d understand if he wants to break up. He simply crawls into bed with you because it’s his turn to get you. 

Wonwoo

Listen, I genuinely believe that you can tell him anything. Quite literally anything, including when you’re having some bad thoughts. He gives you an intentionally blank look when you ask him to remove the razors from the bathroom, but immediately does it. He doesn’t ask questions when he comes back, just hugging you tight and thanking you for telling him. Trust that he’ll watch you like a hawk over the next few days, doing soft, yet somehow non-invasive check-ins. A week later when that particular feeling passes and you ask for the razors again to shave, he does ask a few questions, just to make sure you’re in a good headspace. It makes you feel secure that you have someone right there that will help you if you have to cry for help.

Woozi

He’s pretty independent and so are you, but after you tell him about your diagnosis and the medications you’re on, he becomes a bit clingy. Let me explain. Before, you could go hours, maybe even days without really hearing from him when he got busy. No big deal, you knew that was just part of it. Now, no matter what he’s doing at work or whatever timezone he might be in, he’s calling you before you go to bed to make sure you’ve taken your medication. He’ll, of course, be there to talk if you want, but you usually don’t and that’s thanks to how much the medication is doing for you. He will never, ever let you miss a day. 

DK

You know you’re in a manic episode, which is why you jumped at the chance to go out with Seokmin and a few of his members for dinner. You’re feeling good, talking rapidly and animatedly about something and Seungkwan laughs, saying something along the lines of, “Okay, motor mouth.” It kind of makes you deflate. Not that he meant anything by it, not that he knew about your diagnosis or that you were in a manic episode. Still, Seokmin is next to you, encouraging you to continue talking because he was following, no problem. He’ll always be a motor mouth with you. Even if your mood doesn’t come back as high as it was before, it’s still comforting that he’ll listen to you ramble about whatever comes to mind, even if it’s sometimes a stream of consciousness more than anything specific. 

Mingyu

It’s not like sex is uncommon in your relationship, but after you initiate multiple rounds in one night, Mingyu will sort of laugh and ask what’s gotten into you. When you stop and kind of tear up, he realizes he might have said something wrong and he’s holding onto you immediately. You tell him you’re kind of upset because you didn’t realize that you were manic until he said that. Increased libido is a common symptom for you and now you’re feeling bad for maybe pressuring him into it. He’ll squish your face and insist that you absolutely did not and he has no complaints. You can always come to him for this, or for anything for that matter. 

Minghao

Now, I think he might be a bit of a believer in home remedies for a lot of things, but not for this. Does not let you miss a counseling or psychiatrist appointment. Does not let you forget your medication. Knows by heart everything you’re taking, including the dosage. He even gets a little organizer and sorts it out for you every week. Insists that you stick to a routine and practice self-care when you’re in a manic episode and makes sure you eat, sleep, and find things to enjoy during a depressive episode. Really, genuinely might understand your disorder and what you need for it better than you do. 

Seungkwan

He knows you’ve been down and that’s just the nature of the disorder sometimes. He does little things to help you manage it - chores are taken care of, dinner is already started, medication is already picked up from the pharmacy, etc. But when you admit late at night that you don’t know why he’s with you and you feel worthless, he doesn’t have a little reaction. It makes you cry despite how numb you were feeling earlier when he squishes your face with a bit more aggression than he probably intended and in great detail tells you how much he loves you and what he loves about you and why no one else will ever compare. It’s what you needed to hear, and he makes a mental note to be more vocal about these things, particularly when you’re down. 

Vernon

You two are relaxing at home when you ask him if he can hear that sound. He’ll say no, feeling kind of clueless. You’ll frown and ask, “Are you sure? It’s so loud.” Your insistence makes him pause. “Tell me about it,” he’ll say. You’ll describe it in great detail, convincing him that you do in fact believe you’re hearing something. Will not let you feel bad about the fact that he doesn’t hear it and that it must be an auditory hallucination. He’s offering you his noise cancelling headphones to blast some music and drown out the sound until it goes away. 

Chan

You’re usually pretty easy going and agreeable. But Chan knows something is up because you’ve been picking fights left and right all day. First it was that he left a mug on the side of the sink instead of in the sink or inside the dishwasher. Okay, easy to fix next time, he thinks. Then it’s that he’s going out for lunch with a couple of his members, even though he told you yesterday, which leaves him confused. Then it’s that he didn’t appear to be listening to you when you talked at dinner. He was absolutely listening, but the way you huff angrily at him makes him approach, holding your face and asking what’s going on with you today. He won’t let you escalate this into a fight, and eventually you deflate, tearing up. You admit you’ve just been feeling restless, both physically and emotionally, and that you don’t think this new medication is doing much. He cuddles with you the rest of the night, shushing you when you say you don’t deserve it after picking fights all day, and encourages you to make an appointment to talk about your medication.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Love the not who he seems au!

I've got some(a lot of?) questions if that's alright?

After Ford finally wakes up, you mentioned that Bill watches over the littler twins' dreams, does he do something similar with Stan? do they chat in the Mindscape or anything? does he avoid Stan?

what are(of there are?) the immediate consequences to the relationship between them now that Ford is awake?

Has 'Stanfraud' ever had any interactions with any Unicorn hair?

What would happen if Stanfraud/Bill ever got any on him? Would he have an allergic reaction? Or other ill reactions?

Have the time police ever given Stanfraud/Bill any trouble?

In the 30 years that Stan and Bill have known each other, have they ever saved each other's life? Or gotten protective/defensive for each other?

Alright that's all for now! Bye!

Lots of questions are always alright!

Let’s go through all these:

— He definitely does it with Stan too. He doesn’t really have any reason to avoid Stan, except Ford obviously being against it. But… he won’t tell if Stan won’t. He makes excuses as to why he’s visiting Stan’s dreams so much, which Stan doesn’t comment on, he’s just oddly grateful he’s still around. And bleeding into the next question: this all being said, a few old angers have risen to the surface, seeing how broken down his brother is again, knowing Bill’s behind it, so sometimes their conversations get a little tense and Bill does avoid him for a few days after. Or he doesn’t, and gets a little to pushy, lashing out at Stan.

It doesn’t help that Stan feels some guilt still speaking with Bill because of Ford, and because of how adamant his brother has been about Bill being a threat to them. But, it isn’t as easy as just telling him to go away. He knows for a fact Bill wouldn’t listen. The kids would be upset too. They don’t now the depths of all this stuff.

And, not an immediate consequence, but the new tension will eventually bubble into a very intense argument between Stan and Bill that’ll probably have consequences for everyone.

— You know, I hadn’t quite considered that, but I think so yes! He has negative reactions to anything that works as an ingredient in repellent against him. Unicorn hair, definitely more of an allergic reaction, akin to something like hay fever. But something like Mercury probably burns him.

— I have thought about their being an ‘episode’ where Bill’s rivalry with Time Baby comes up, thanks to Dipper and Mabel messing with time, but I’d need to think more about that to give a proper answer. I don’t think he and Stan have ever been given any trouble prior, being as they haven’t messed with time themselves. Bill might try and get a rise out of any time agents if he spots them though, like Blendin. Just for fun.

— They have absolutely saved each other’s lives and that’s a catalyst in their relationship becoming what it is. This is another thing I need to think more on, but being as Stan didn’t fake his death, unfortunately some of his past comes back to haunt him, with old friends putting two and two together with his fake identities. I’m not sure where that would go yet, but I know Bill would step in and rescue him. Naturally, he claims it’s because he needs Stan to get out of this body, but he isn’t really convincing when he says that. There’s also likely a situation where Bill has gotten himself in danger, and Stan rescues him, but I haven’t settled on that. There’s probably a few more minor instances of them saving each other too.

And yes! They do get protective/defensive over each other. On Stan’s end it’s strange. Initially, he was having to protect Ford’s body from Bill. Bill was the threat. But now, he sometimes finds himself actually protecting Bill… because he’s his friend. He’ll jump to his defence about his behaviours if someone comments on them harshly for example. He’s the only one allowed to give him shit for being weird. And with Bill, he’s gone from trying to rile Stan up, calling him useless, a failure of a brother, to getting riled up himself when someone tries to have a go at Stan instead.

If either got physically hurt, they’d also be protective. They genuinely have each other’s backs. Stan at least has the excuse he’s looking out for his brother’s body, making sure Bill doesn’t damage it any further, and can poke fun at Bill later for not having an excuse.

“Sure you don’t just give a shit about this old ‘bag of flesh’?”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself, Fez. Your heart could stop right now and I’d dance over your corpse.”

I realise they’re basically just in a constant game of chicken on who’s going to admit they care out loud first — while sober.

I hope these have been satisfactory! Sorry if there’s a lot of questions I’m still unsure on or figuring out the answers too. I’m developing this AU as I answer all these.

[gothamite-rambler]

Bruce is beekeeping age, but Artemis would still smash

I respect and agree.

Artemis (Amazon): Jason, your dad is at “beekeeping age.” You know what that means?

Jason refused to respond; he already knew where this conversation was headed. But Artemis took his silence as an invitation to elaborate on the slang term.

Artemis: It means he’s an attractive, middle-aged man—usually in his 40s or 50s. You know, the kind of guy who would keep bees and make his own honey.

Jason (monotone): That’s not something he does.

Artemis (undeterred): He doesn’t have to do that exactly. It’s just cute how he’s the cape crusader at night, but at home, he’s such an emo dork—like a businessman and a cool dad.

Jason pretended to examine his soda can, regretting that he had said anything at all. He wondered how the conversation had even started.

Artemis: He’s kind of cute—tough, tall, and handsome. How old is your dad?

Jason brought his hands together, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in his head.

Artemis: He’s definitely at "beekeeping age." Some Amazons even call him a DILF.

Jason (whispering to himself): I wonder if I killed myself and got thrown in the pit, would I forget this?

Artemis (looking longingly): He reads books, he’s always there for you guys. He protects you like he protects Gotham. I never had a dad, but my mom wasn’t even there for me like that.

Jason refused to respond, taking a long drink from his soda can instead.

Artemis (wistfully): The crazy thing is, none of my former partners—besides you, of course—have made my heart flutter like Bruce and guys like him do. I know you two aren’t close, but a strong man who loves you, supports you, and is conventionally attractive…

Jason examined his gun, debating what Artemis would say next while struggling to keep his boiling annoyance at bay.

Artemis (twiddling her fingers, lost in thought): Jason, I think I want to… well, you know.

Jason (angry): No, really? I couldn’t tell!

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

Later that day, Jason made a surprise visit to Bruce to discuss the earlier conversation. If he was going to live with that moment replaying in his head, the man connected to it would have to hear about it too.

Bruce: She said I was “beekeeping age?”

Jason (staring at his feet): Yes. And before you ask, it’s a term for an ‘attractive’ middle-aged man, usually in his 40s or 50s.

Bruce: How did she know I was in my 40s?

Jason: Oh my God, that's what you focus on?!

Bruce (alarmed): Sorry, sorry! I’m just thrown off by the fact that she said it—she’s your age, and that felt wrong to hear.

Jason: Yeah, she called you a DILF too.

Bruce: What’s a DILF?

Jason covered his eyes, cringing at the word.

Jason: Look it up. Because if I say the full acronym, I might shoot you in your kneecaps!

Bruce shrugged, then pulled out his phone to search for the definition. After reading it, he buried his head in his hands, exhausted by the world.

Bruce: I’m so tired of this. Why can’t people just see me as fairly attractive and move on?

Jason: Thank God we’re on the same page about this.

Bruce: Yep, yep, yep. I already had to get Selina to stop calling me "Daddy."

Jason nearly vomited at the thought of that word connected to his foster dad.

Jason: Yep, this is going to be a full session in therapy next week. Anyway, avoid her forever, or I'm going to lose my mind.

Bruce: I promise, I’m not going to do anything with her. That may have sounded wrong, but I wouldn’t because it's all kinds of messed up. I’m with Selina—she's my partner. Even if I were single—

Jason shot Bruce a glare, clutching a letter opener. Bruce nodded, cutting himself off before he could say anything that would make Jason want to stab him.

Bruce (ashamed): Have I paid you this month? I have not! Let me get my phone; I’ll be right back!

Bruce hurried out of the office, leaving Jason to collect his bearings. He pondered whether he deserved an extra paycheck after just getting paid last week, then shrugged.

Jason: Works for me.

[sunderingstars]

.✦ ── ✦.

mr. cold feet’s pop-up shop

.✦ ── ✦.

what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, theory crafting, elation!sampo, sampo!sampo (??), lil bit of emanator!sampo & doll!sampo sprinkled in, list format turned waxing poetic, (as always), general befuddlement, op literally trying to think their way out of a paper bag, hijacked by mundanite assembly halfway through, yap class is now in session

word count: 13.5k 😀

overview: (as of 2.6) summarizing my thoughts on all seven days of sampo’s new shop event! i know i said i was “done” with sampo analysis but… i must…… talk about shiny new event………

sampo analysis masterlist

.✦ ── ✦.

My Main Takeaways

.✦ ── ✦.

— Each Curio exchange is potentially a chronology of his existence, beginning as a conceptual something floating out in the ether, then being “created,” caught, or tethered to a specific form, all the way through his experiences with Aha and the Elation.

— Otherwise, I feel these “Curios” may be stand-ins for things he has created himself or been in the vicinity of at some point. In some way, they likely say something specific about his identity and backstory.

— Mentions of both “Diogenes” and “Icarus” link him to other forms of mythology.

— Sampo does not make money from this event; instead, we the player and Trailblazer do (similar to his mythological function).

— Mentions of the Tavern and several specifically Elation-aligned factions or beings.

— Doubling down on the function of the mythological Sampo and its narrative, including lines from the Kalevala itself!

— These different Curios, if not chronological, may instead be alluding to Aha’s “collection” of masks and items seen in Their splash art. this would place Sampo closer in proximity to Aha Themself, if not being Them, since he would be in the position of the one “collecting” or marketing these items. There is also a chance that Sampo, as per his function, was used by Aha to create the equivalent of these Curios, putting him in that strange “creator but also created” purgatory!

— (The name of the event also emphasizes the “Mr. Cold Feet” moniker, which I’ve talked about in my “Notable Topics” post as being synonymous with his uncanny ability to back out and rethink things he doesn’t want to be a part of. The “pop-up shop” itself is also temporary, which may be hinting at the fact that his identity as Sampo on Belobog may, itself, be a kind of temporary “pop-up event” in the grand scheme of his life.)

— Most confusing conversations and backtracking could be explained by Aha’s “secret” and the idea Sampo can’t say certain things about his identity. Thus, he may have to abruptly distance himself from the Curios in conversation if he feels he’s getting too close to “revealing the truth.”

— The event itself might also be a cry for help to us, the player; maybe he knows there are some things we understand that the Trailblazer doesn’t, such as the names of the achievements on the processing screen. He is trying his best to reach somebody :((

— Every day has two phrases repeated in the flavor text for each Curio: “One-of-a-Kind Curio” and “Collectible and Value-Preserving.” I have a feeling these lines not only refer to the literal objects involved, but Sampo himself. This falls in line with Doll Theory quite well (as Sampo being yet another doll would place him as “collectible” but his potential Emanator or favored status within the Elation could market him as being “one-of-a-kind,” likely due to his Sampo-like nature of being “value-preserving”), but it could also mean any number of things, from a purely Emanator!Sampo to Sampo who was created by a being other than Aha — anything that positions him as “valuable” or akin to an object himself is viable for this interpretation.

— Additionally, I’m not sure how his mask factors into all this — it’s a bit unclear if he even has it back yet, and I can’t find anything in the event that might allude to it. Masks don’t seem to be explicitly mentioned in any way; it must be important to him, so it’s a bit of a head scratcher as to why he doesn’t seem to be talking about it (aside from the whole “secret” thing). If anyone has any ideas, please feel free to let me know, I’d love to hear them!

— Despite the length of this analysis, it’s by no means meant to cover every single possibility; so much of Sampo’s character is up to interpretation, so the theory scene is wide open. I’d love to hear any alternate interpretations you guys have in the comments/reblogs!

Update: Due to new information gleaned from Mundanite Assembly (Unknowable Domain), I believe the pop-up event can have an extra chronological interpretation — Sampo as an elemental force drifting through the ether before being captured and harnessed into a singular form (likely mechanical in nature), then used for increasingly dangerous experiments before, through a series of honestly exhaustive events, finding himself puppeted around for a joke at the Tavern.

I do believe this only leads up to day four or five of the pop-up shop, with days six and seven being interpretative of the time after. (And what Sampo is doing now in the present day, trying to figure out the key to his existence and his past.) This is a tentative theory, but I still wanted to include it. I’ll link my Mundanite Assembly analysis here when I post it!

Another Update: While some of this pop-up event may be referencing events in Mundanite Assembly like day three and its themes of being “stolen from the heavens,” I also think some of it, like the references to toys and especially the last day of trying to understand “past and present lives,” are meant to symbolize recent events, such as his experiences with Elation and his current situation. There’s the possibility that Doll theories and Emanator theories would work in this “gap” — or the time between the end of “Windup World” (around day four) and the “present” (day seven).

When talking about Mundanite Assembly, I will be operating under the assumption that the “you” perspective is Sampo, and addressing him accordingly.

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 1

.✦ ── ✦.

— He “missed us dearly,” which is really sweet! :,)

— He immediately addresses himself as “Old Sampo,” bringing both his name and its associations to the forefront before specifically introducing us to something that “won’t make money” — aka something that we will profit off of and he “won’t,” turning our basic items into rewards like his mythological counterpart.

— He also links this venture to the idea of “fun,” putting his pursuits in the orbit of Elation. I’m inclined to take his word on it, which brings up the question: How does he feel about his “function”? It’s something he seems to be aware of, but is it something he enjoys? Did he give himself the name “Sampo” simply because of what he likes to do, or was it always an immutable part of him, some unavoidable truth he attempts to claim as his own — to exercise his own kind of “Elation” alongside it — so that it wears on him less? Basically, what came first: the name or the action? Is he Sampo because he produces wealth, or does he produce wealth because he is Sampo? Interesting stuff to think about!

— He was lonely… :(((((((((((

— This does put his trip to Penacony in perspective, though: if we assume he’s telling the truth (or at least part of it) here, then his run-ins with certain characters make more sense. He may have used getting his mask back as both a way to accomplish a goal (helping Belobog) and to speak to someone he maybe hadn’t spoken to in a while. Although Sampo does seem to be exasperated by Sparkle and the rest of the Fools quite often, he also seems to harbor a sort of fondness for them. There’s also the possibility he knows other people on Penacony that he wanted to talk to.

— Boothill’s Emanator run-in is also looking more viable here, as a genuinely “lonely” Sampo feels like more of a recipe for a drunken confession of identity! In fact, with some of my interpretations from this event, I could see Sampo and Boothill having quite a bit in common, especially in the vein of just wanting someone to have a good drink with and genuinely talk to.

— Sampo & Boothill underrated friendship for the win! 💪

— I feel like his talk of the meme crate is twofold: one, it is a very real item, and two, it may also be something he uses as a way to talk about himself in a roundabout way, much like the Curios during the rest of the event.

— The timeframe of “eight years” gives us a good benchmark; we now know he’s been on Belobog for at least eight years, and the way he references the crate as being “hidden right here in the Belobogian snow fields!” (coincidentally right where we first meet him in the game) can also be interpreted as a reference to himself. Both he and the crate have been here for at least eight years, with Sampo likely being here longer and simply finding the crate eight years ago. Both he and the crate are implied to have been “hiding in plain sight,” so to speak, and the way he backtracks to ask “so how many years would it be now?” makes me think he really is referring to himself. To me, it very much reads as a genuine attempt to remember how long he’s been on Belobog exactly.

— It also almost implies that for much of that time, Sampo wasn’t near civilization, or at least a part of it. There’s a lonely quality to the crate being left out in those fields all alone for so long, and if it’s meant to mirror Sampo’s journey there’s a chance he was out there all alone for some time as well. :((

— Also, the “meme crate” is specific, and may be alluding to Sampo himself as a creation or otherwise “memetic” entity (which honestly, branches off into a lot of different possibilities).

— Additionally, when he says “after Jarilo-VI returned to the silver rail, I got to know several friends beyond the sky” it seems to have a… weird quality to it. It might just be me, but I feel like this is one of his signature “technically true but not quite” lines — the implication for the Trailblazer is that, just like everyone else on Jarilo-VI, Sampo did not have access at all beyond the planet, and so once that access was gained he began connecting with the rest of the universe like everyone else. However, Sampo doesn’t specify this. He doesn’t say he made his first friends beyond the sky, he doesn’t say he rejoined the universe like everyone else. He words it in a way that isn’t technically dishonest, but that carefully leaves out key details — Jarilo-VI returned to the silver rail, not him; he made several friends beyond the sky, but he doesn’t mention whether he already had other friends out there, or if he was simply reconnecting with former acquaintances. It feels very intentional, and man do I find it interesting! 

— Again, we get some pretty heavy references to the mythological Sampo, with him detailing how he won’t make any money from the event but it will be a “golden money-making opportunity” for us. Here, he doesn’t seem discontented with what he’s doing — in fact, he proposes the idea to us. Aside from the fact he may have to carry out these kinds of transactions to survive or stay alive, it really does come across as something he wants to do — or at least is okay with doing — than something he dislikes. (Or maybe we’re just special and he likes us!)

— Lastly, when he mentions “the tiring, dirty work will be outsourced to robots” I’m not super sure how to feel. On one hand, he could be speaking as a creation himself, ironically going further down the ladder to use those below him as a means to accomplish what he accomplishes for whoever is above him; this would fit with the “dual” nature of many of his remarks, as I do think many of them don’t just refer to what he’s talking about, but also himself. On the other hand, he could simply be speaking from the perspective of a creator, of someone who doesn’t necessarily have a similar function to the robots but just… wants them to take care of things for him. 

— It could even be both if we’re talking about Emanator!Sampo, stuck in this purgatory between using others and being used. Perhaps he is in the “creator” role overseeing these robots while also being in the “created” role under an Aeon at the same time.

— I also feel like this might be a reference to Aha Stuffed Toys — I’ve made a few connections before between the idea of “mass-produced” dolls or playthings from the Aha Stuffed Toy occurrence and the “intact masks” from the Ship of Fools occurrence. If these dolls and masks are one and the same, then the robots Sampo mentions here fill a similar role to the stuffed toys: doing the work Aha doesn’t want to do, taking the brunt of pain and effort so another doesn’t have to.

— We start off with wind, Sampo’s signature element (very fitting!).

— “The Fluid, the Myth, the Legend” is a fun twist on “the man, the myth, the legend” that takes a specific approach to setting Sampo apart from the idea of “man” or any other solidly definable means of mortality. It also gives him a somewhat mysterious, godlike quality, as “myths” and “legends” often have to do with those who are powerful or divine. Also, it’s a nice reference to the mythological Sampo!

— If we take this to have a double meaning for his identity, then the name may be alluding to either his “core” or “base trait” — like the fluidity of a higher being, his element of wind, or even the intangible concept of Elation — or a more literal time in chronology where he was not yet made into form.

— “Give yourself the chance to experience the wonders of controlling an ideal fluid” may point towards his backstory, with something or someone potentially trying to “control” him in his more fluid or conceptual state. Since it’s followed up by a “(Just kidding!)” it seems this attempt at control may not have been successful, or it may just be another way for Sampo to get his Elation in through the event!

— On the Aha side of things, this “fluid” could be a reference to someone or something that is part of Aha’s collection. For this, either Sampo would have to be Aha or part of them somehow, or simply used by Them to create these things!

— I also like how Sampo tries to talk Silver Wolf down from leaving a negative review — although it does seem a bit desperate at the end? If Sampo’s function is being a businessman in a specifically mythologically-relevant niche, then perhaps negative reviews have some kind of deeper effect on him, anywhere from mild discomfort or unease to even pain. Or not, and he just wants his stuff to sell!

— He also gives us a joke afterwards, and even though he says “it’s just a joke,” I feel like it might mean something more. As much as Sampo aligns himself with the Elation, he also has nuanced opinions about it, the kind that go far beyond making simple Masked-Fools-type jokes.

— Even if the “joke” itself is absurd, I still feel like it points towards something about him as a character. “The world brims with narcissistic wisdom. Only a fool knows that they’re all a joke.”

— We can take this two ways: one, Sampo is recounting a joke he’s heard (likely from the Masked Fools) but doesn’t agree with, and two, Sampo is telling a joke he does agree with.

— If he doesn’t agree, he may be trying to put a sort of ironic twist on the way the Fools view things; he recounts the joke to us and says “it’s just a joke” when we express confusion to highlight how contradictory the Fools are — it’s not just that they like telling jokes, but (as Sampo mentions later in the event), they only seem to care about themselves and their own laughter, not the enjoyment or understanding of others.

— If he does agree with the joke, he’s at least expressing a deeper sense of absurdism, something picked up from his time with the Elation that likely offsets despair or pure Nihility when it threatens to consume him. It also reminds me of how close the Elation and Nihility are in concept; the main distinguishing factor is their presentation. (Perhaps Sampo, as someone aligned with both Paths, is trying to express this as well.)

— Or, it’s like he says, and it really is all just a joke. You never can tell with this man!

— Also, his little box is really cute! It’s color-coordinated with a signature rose and even a sticker of Gepard’s drawing! I’m just very emotional about this. He made it his own. ♡

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 2

.✦ ── ✦.

— Specific mention of “meme catalysis” — yet another reference to memes and intangible or created beings.

— “A fire that provokes profundity” is a very specific phrase as well; I’ve already made some speculation as to his relationship with Erudition, since it seems to pop up quite a bit in his related Simulated Universe occurrences (and to be honest, this new Unknowable Domain content has made me do a double take with how much experimentation and creation is going on in the search for knowledge). I feel like, if this is meant to say something about his identity, this phrase would put Sampo in orbit with the Erudition, since it directly contains a reference to gaining knowledge.

— (Note: “Liquid Flame” reminds me of “Dousing Flames” from Mundanite Assembly!)

— “Liquid Flame in Void” carries across similar ideas as the last day — immateriality and pure substance — although this time it is beginning to occupy a more specific niche. Instead of a mythological “fluid,” we have now stepped into “liquid flame,” something more specific in both name and place. No longer is it vaguely floating in the ether, but it directly resides in the “void.” Overall, it’s a more vivid picture than the last.

— Chronologically, I would interpret this as Sampo’s more “ethereal” and original form (whether Aeonic, elemental, or conceptual in nature) growing more distinct, leaving behind his formless existence to become something… more.

— Additionally, despite the reference to knowledge (and by extension, Erudition) earlier, this feels much more Nihility-aligned to me. “If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you” feels like a direct reference to the abyss of IX, although i’m not sure if IX is the type to “gaze” at all.

— (It also links to “Dousing Flames (II),” where the imagery surrounding the Perpetual Motion Project very much reminds me of IX’s Nihility “boundary” (as seen in Acheron’s burst).)

— This could mean several things to me: one, it could simply be alluding to Sampo’s affiliation with Nihility since that is his playable Path; two, it could be indicative of a chronological time where he was alone, abandoned, or hopeless, simply left to stare into a void until he gained some sort of enlightenment (Path-related or otherwise) — for Doll!Sampo or other creation theories, this would likely be when he was physically abandoned on Belobog for a long time; three, it could be another reference to one of Aha’s “collectibles” They or Sampo made; or four, it could be link to some sort of “origin” for Sampo within space, where his slowly-forming self had nothing but the void for company. Or, hell, it could even be some combination of all four!

— “(There is no such function!)” feels contradictory, but that seems to be a running theme so far. All of the parenthesis are Elation-aligned jokes, which may or may not be true. In fact, they may only even be there to mess with us!

— Sampo also seems to refer to something specific in his comment — “there are all kinds of Curios out there,” mirroring both the variety of event items and Aha’s own collection, and “even a bag of trash can have its own unique shine,” which feels like it’s about him specifically. While Belobog itself surely qualifies for these statements as well, it seems that Sampo may be referring to himself from two steps and a third-person point of view away (as he so often loves to do). In this case, “all kinds of Curios” could be a reference to Aha’s splash art collection (and the “collection” of potential dolls in Ship of Fools) and the “bag of trash” could be a reference to Sampo’s specific position within that collection.

— Generally, I take this to mean Sampo is speaking about how he, despite being abandoned or otherwise considered “trash,” has found himself in a collection where he has his own “unique value.” In this case, him being in the proximity of Aha may have a silver lining or even wholesome implication — despite looking into the void, despite being discarded or seen as waste, there was at least one being in the universe who looked upon him and, devoid of shallow pity, saw the value at the core of his being. While it’s possible there may still be a twisted, cruel sort of irony going on, there’s also just as much of a chance that Aha or the Fools have nurtured Sampo in a way he never has been before.

A Note:

— As you may have noticed, I’ve already started to amend my timeline a bit — for those who have read my other posts, especially Doll Theory, I posited Sampo as having a “creation to abandonment to hatred” timeline, but after this event I feel there are some additions and changes to be made.

— If the items in this event are to be taken chronologically, then it’s likely Sampo had a period of “manifestation” or formless existence, then isolation or abandonment, then being stolen or trapped, then created and used before eventually endeavoring to find out, put simply, what the hell is going on.

— It’s possible that I’m misreading the items in the event and they aren’t meant to symbolize Sampo at all, but a few things like being “stolen” line up neatly with Sampo’s mythological counterpart, so I’m willing to consider it an option.

— Moving forward, Sampo says a few key phrases, namely “red and fiery” and “a lucky portent” — the red matches with his jacket color, fiery may allude to his temperament (as mentioned through his “hot-blooded past” later in the event) or even a specific state of being (fire, elemental, combustible, etc.), and “a lucky portent” relates to his function as the Sampo, bestowing wealth and, in a way, “luck” onto others.

— Additionally, if we are considering that Aha may be the one “stealing” Sampo (it certainly lines up with Their personality), this may reference the Aeon Themself scoping out candidates for a pet project or joke, where they are then intrigued by Sampo. “Portent” also ties in to the kind of “butterfly effect” way Aha operates, and they may have seen something greater within Sampo that he himself hadn’t seen. Either way, yoink!

— Next, Sampo directly mentions the Tavern — a shorthand way of referring to the World’s End Tavern operated by the Masked Fools — and surprisingly enough, links it specifically to the idea of storytelling. We get some good tidbits, like the fact he isn’t “all-knowing,” and that there are many stories that would be inconvenient to share.

— On one hand, this implies that whoever Sampo may be (whether he is an Aeon, an Emanator, or some non-mortal third option), he has blind spots. Depending on who exactly he is, this has different implications — for example, an Aeonic Sampo would basically be admitting Aeons (in general, since Nous is probably an exception) don’t know everything despite being at the top of the food chain, meaning they are still fallible; outsmarting them is near impossible but not entirely. Meanwhile, other Sampos may be trying to convey that although they are old and experienced and powerful, they aren’t the answer to everything; there are some things we still need to figure out ourselves.

— Additionally, the aspect of “convenience” could go several ways for me. Either he is genuinely so powerful that he can’t be bothered to tell us everything, he has knowledge of future events and doesn’t want to mess them up, or there is some sort of power above or within him that creates limitations — i.e. “inconveniences” — if he says certain things. Going back to some doll speculation and the idea of a “secret only Aha knows,” there’s a possibility that Sampo mentioning convenience is just a light way of alluding to the fact he can’t say or do certain things, either out of pure inability or the fear of what will happen to him if he does.

— Also, there’s the possibility he did some really fucked up stuff in his past and he doesn’t want to ruin his reputation with us, LOL.

— He mentions how the Tavern has a penchant for stories as well — especially how they “actively” seek those people out and how, apparently, the Trailblazer would be a prime candidate for the Elation in this regard. Beyond the fact this is another little hint at how the Elation (and Aha) tends to take a liking to the Trailblaze (and the Trailblazer), it also may say a little bit about how Sampo came to be there. Setting aside any kind of “stealing” or affiliation with Aha Themself, the Masked Fools tend to actively send invitations to those whose lives they find “interesting” — it’s possible that Sampo found himself the recipient of one of these invitations even if he was already with the Elation, as whatever his backstory is, I’m sure it’s going to be damn interesting!

— The last little bit of Sampo’s dialogue on day two focuses on the idea of “place,” namely the transporting and selling of goods from one place to another. Similarly to the “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” idea going on in the liquid flame comments, there’s the implication here that items, goods, and potentially Sampo himself are all victims of circumstance — just because an item (or Sampo himself) may be considered useless or “trash” in one place, there are many other places that would consider it valuable.

— It also places Sampo as a “go-between,” neither created nor creator but simply a middleman ferrying all these things between places. It lines up a bit with the idea that Sampo, although potentially being stolen or taken by Aha, eventually found himself in a space where he had the freedom to move things from place to place rather than being the one being moved.

— Again with the reference to a “meme”… Sampo what are you trying to tell us…….

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 3

.✦ ── ✦.

— This seems as good a place as any to talk about the phrases that show up when you submit items!

— One: Cute little emoticons, kinda tech-aligned like Curio Hacker. All in all, a nice little touch!

— Two: “Cool Guys.” May be a simple indication of how Sampo tries to come across as a “cool guy” in most of our interactions, but could also be a reference to the achievement “Cool Guys Don’t Look At Explosions,” when you clear Simulated Universe with ten or more Blessings of Destruction. Since the text is cut off so early, I’m not sure if the achievement is actually meant to be referenced here, and admittedly the Destruction doesn’t quite fit in with everything Sampo-aligned so far. However, it could be a link to Sampo’s red, fiery, “hot-blooded” past, or to his “breaking” or destruction in mythology. Additionally, maybe the “hate” behind the “love” could also lead to Destruction. (Plus, the Clown’s Item “Cloud of Doubt” does have a door on fire….)

— Three: “Take It Easy, Icarus” is especially notable because it appears repeatedly in the flash of words. For one, it references an achievement of the same name where you fly a cycrane to “test the limits of its remote control range”. This seems directly Doll!Sampo-related — or at least Creation!Sampo-related — since the entire idea of the achievement is taking an automated object and setting it loose to see “just how far it can go”. Additionally, the “remote control range” sounds very similar to the idea of Aha “not being involved in the quality control process” when it comes to stuffed toys. It’s possible that Aha, either creating Sampo Themself or stealing him from another creator, set him loose upon the universe to see just how far he could go, just how far he could advance his awareness beyond what he was created to be. However, much like the cycrane, there is always an invisible wall to hit. (The achievement is also in the “Fathom the Unfathomable” category, which feels Erudition-aligned.)

— Additionally, the mention of “Icarus” himself creates a link to Greek mythology, with the implication being that Sampo may fill similar themes to this figure, like “over-ambition,” “alienation,” “impulsivity,” and “the consequences of breaking boundaries”. It’s also possible that Sampo, in his attempt to reveal the “truth” or manage the “hate” inside himself, may be flying too close to the sun when it comes to enemies — or “prey” — he sets his sights on. (i.e. if he is angry at a specific Aeon, even Aha Themself, he may be biting off a bit more than he can chew by setting them in his sights.)

— The mention of Icarus could be a kind of warning as well; an indication of someone, perhaps Sparkle or Boothill or a different person, trying to remind Sampo of how dangerous impulsivity and setting his sights too high can be. I can just see Boothill saying something like “take it easy, Icarus” to Sampo over drinks after Sampo explains what he’s planning.

— Four: “This must be a trap crea…” — my best guess is that this is meant to say something like “This must be a trap created by…” or something along those lines. I feel like this might also be a reference to something else in-game, but after searching through the wiki I just couldn’t find anything matching this specific wording. While it does link to Sampo’s “Trap” ability — something both relevant and pertinent to the discussion — I’m afraid the text for this phrase is too cut off to meaningfully find any reference (at least for me). :(

— However, the general idea of “this must be a trap” seems like it could be a part of Sampo’s inner monologue or general feelings about his situation. Perhaps he has misgivings about his affiliation with the Fools, Aha, or the Elation in general, or he could be referring to some other event in his backstory. Maybe it has something to do with “betrayal” or “abandonment,” or perhaps it’s simply what others think of him when they see him. Either way, the idea of a “trap” is very much at the center of this wall of text.

— Five: “Diogenes’ Utopia.” This is the achievement you get for going through all of Belobog’s trash cans, and yep, the relevancy to Sampo seems pretty obvious here. Not only is it in the Moment of Joy (Elation-aligned) category, but it directly connects to the idea of Belobog and Sampo himself being associated with trash and trashcans — in fact, one could even say Sampo views himself as the “trash” in the greater “trashcan” of Belobog! Because of this link, it seems to imply some kind of importance to getting to know Sampo, to looking beyond his exterior or the parts others see as “valueless” and finding the worth inside of him. To be loved is to be known, and all that. 

— Additionally, the mention of yet another Greek figure — Diogenes — is important as well. Not only was Diogenes known for founding cynicism (a lifestyle emphasizing self-sufficiency and, perhaps most notably, intentional rejection of luxury), he also rejected “manners” as a whole, often impressing the idea that “truth” and honesty was a virtue. 

— As for Sampo, I find this link quite interesting. It really makes me think about how, despite Sampo’s penchant for being a businessman, he willingly chooses to stay in Belobog, a place far-removed from the luxuries of the wider universe. Not just that, but although he often obscures or leaves out important details of the truth, he never seems to outright lie. With how Tatalov shook out on Penacony, “truth” and the revealing of it seems important to him as well. (He also mentions that he has nothing to hide later in this same event.)

— It also many be referring to Belobog as a “utopia” for someone like Diogenes, since so much of the planet has returned to the “simplicity of nature” through being cut off from the wider universe.

— Overall, there’s quite a bit of references to Greek figures, and well as implications of both conceptual and material themes. All together, it seems to paint a picture of Sampo as someone who, on a personal level (and despite the way he comes across on the outside), prioritizes truth, ambition, and finding value in unlikely places. It also implies that, on an identity level, he may be someone who isn’t entirely human — a creation, perhaps even technological or otherwise — who has been tossed aside from one place only to be found valuable in another, and additionally who may have been “set loose” to explore the limits of his existence.

— These could have slight alterations, of course, like Sampo not being “set loose” by any one party but rather trying to find his limitations on his own, or being found “valuable” in Belobog’s Undercity as opposed to the Elation itself, but I think the core ideas still stand.

— “High Voltage Stolen From Heavens” is very interesting to me because of one word: stolen. (Well, it also occurs to me that “high voltage” implies the fluid-turned-flame eventually snapped into existence, and was likely taken from that “electrical” form, and that “heavens” implies either space itself or another Aeon, but I digress.) “Stolen” sticks out to me so much because the mythological Sampo has quite a bit of conflict surrounding it, including being “stolen” (several times, if I remember correctly). 

— This fits neatly into a mythological interpretation of Sampo’s character, implying that from whatever form (material or otherwise) he originated in, he was then stolen by another party in-universe. My tendency is to say Aha was the one doing the stealing, as Sampo is currently affiliated with the Elation and it just seems like something Aha would do. The main question now is: From who? Again, Sampo’s identity itself is the main question. (Looking real convenient for that “secret” only Aha knows.) Aha’s motivations seem to have been either experimental, joke, or purely interest-based in nature, so we at least have some leads there. Additionally, it seems that Sampo may have been “shoved,” for lack of a better word, into a smaller or more compact form when he was stolen, so that’s another idea. However, i’m still not sure from who.

— Aha is doing the stealing, Sampo is the thing being stolen, so who else is part of the equation? I’m tempted to say it’s another Aeon, or at least an important Path faction, but for the life of me that’s something I just can’t figure out. Again, this is likely intentional if Aha is trying to keep Sampo’s identity a “secret,” but it still frustrates me to no end. Who is it Mx. Aha?? I need to know!!

— (“Stolen” could also refer to “Those Remembered (I)” from Mundanite Assembly, as Xiaoya and her teacher taking Sampo out of the darkness — likely his home or place he lived — and into the light, or outer world, could be a case of “stealing”.)

— “On stormy days, the unyielding kite will face the wrath of the gods head-on” once again feels like Sampo is referring to himself, this time as the “unyielding kite”. I wonder if “wrath of the gods” is meant to simulate some kind of battle fought over him (which would line up with some mythology-related stuff) or if it’s simply meant to talk about how Sampo might stand up to an Aeon (or multiple Aeons) in the future — hell, maybe he already did! It’s possible that Aha or someone else fucked around too much and found out.

— “(Do not attempt!)” also feels like a warning.

— “Nameless” saying “best luck to kites everywhere” is surprisingly wholesome as well, like we’re giving him well-wishes for his journey. Additionally, “kites everywhere” implies multiplicity, which I of course associate with Aha’s collection and/or stuffed toys because of their many individuals.

— (There’s a chance that, because of this, we may be dealing with a collection item/Doll!Sampo that, out of so many others, was the one to finally stand up and say “Hey! You treat us badly! Fuck you!”)

— As far as I’m aware, this seems like a pretty factual “true story” Sampo’s talking about — coming across a Knight of Beauty who tells a story that outlines and references Benjamin Franklin’s kite experiment, then being a bit taken aback by the Knight’s sheer devotion. 

— While this seems to be a true story in-universe, it also seems to mirror the idea that Sampo may have been “bottled” himself, potentially stolen from a different, more fluid and combustible form and forced into a smaller one through some kind of experiment or, as mentioned earlier, “trap.” If Aha was indeed the one doing the stealing, this lends a more sinister motive to the whole thing. While it’s true Sampo may have found new value with the Elation, he may have only found that through a series of traumatic events, like being stolen, trapped, or otherwise “sealed” (like the evil god in the Shining Trapezohedron Die from Ship of Fools — haha, see how I made that connection! >:3) for the purpose of a “joke” or other experiment. 

— (This experimentation could also be connected to Mundanite Assembly’s “Resleeved,” especially with its use of transplantation and Organic Heart specifically.)

— In this case, Sampo very much comes across as a force of nature — no wonder Aha wants to be hush-hush about his identity! If anyone were to find out, or heaven forbid, break that “seal” (likely Sampo’s human form itself) all hell could break loose. 

— I also just find it nice to see Sampo’s interaction with and outlook on someone outside of Belobog or the Masked Fools! It seems he has some complicated feelings when it comes to the Knights of Beauty — on one hand, he seems taken aback by their pure devotion and unabashed, streamlined fervor, but on the other hand there’s this sort of amused admiration that comes from seeing their antics. If I had to sum Sampo’s conversation up in this regard, it’d most likely be the phrase “backhanded compliment.”

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 4

.✦ ── ✦.

— This is arguably the biggest day in terms of Doll!Sampo theories, and for good reason. Sampo himself says “we’re cooking up some toys today,” and the interesting part is that it’s plural — not just one, but multiple, much like Aha’s stuffed toys.

— The name of the Curio is “The Ice That Never Laughs,” which sticks out to me for two reasons: one, the presence of “ice,” a distinct element you wouldn’t consider to be such a large part of a toy, and two, the phrase “never laughs,” a condition of existence that seems to be the complete opposite of the Elation’s — and Aha’s — goal of laughter.

— “This is a block of ice that never laughs.” It’s an interesting line, from the ice itself seeming to straddle a line between non-sentient and sentient (and in a way being personified despite giving no indication of, well, personhood) to the absolutism of “never.” Not only does it “not” laugh, but it “never” laughs. I’m tempted to say this ice not only represents the stuffed toys in general, but is supposed to clue us in to a very specific toy — perhaps one as contradictory as Sampo — that goes against the Elation’s idea of “laughter.”

— This sentiment is made all the more ominous by the interjection: “(Incorrect! Squeezing it from different angles will make it produce different sounds of laughter!)”. This implies that the toy does not want to laugh, but is rather made to through some cruel idea of a joke. It’s very similar to the Aha Stuffed Toy occurrence, where the toys have to be physically beaten and even broken to grant rewards.

— The main catch is: Who is Sampo in all of this? (Another identity question, who could’ve seen it coming?) If we’re looking at these Curios as intentionally-placed-and-named objects meant to give us insight into who Sampo is, what he believes, and what his role is in the wider universe, then I would say this ice is meant to represent him — or at least a time he was considered a toy like this. However, the comment section where someone compliments the “mental state of this toy designer” is answered directly by Sampo, who responds to it by saying “People here all say Mr. Cold Feet is disturbed!”.

— I feel like this implies Sampo to be not a toy, but rather the creator or designer themself. This, of course, would lead to Aha-centric theories, since Aha is the one who made the Aha Stuffed Toys. If Sampo used to be or is a part of Aha (if not the full Aeon Themself), then it makes sense that he would be the one answering questions about the toy designer. When he mentions being “disturbed,” it also makes me aware that he’s aware of the implications of such toys, yet decided to design them anyways. It fits with the way I’ve described Aha as a toy creator before, if not eerily so.

— There’s also the chance that Sampo, once again, fits in some kind of Emanator purgatory — perhaps he, as a being whose function is concerned with transmutation and even creation to an extent, was used by Aha to make the toys, and as such had some kind of say in the process. This could account for his disturbed designer mentality while also making it clear he’s not an Aeon himself.

— Unfortunately, this doesn’t fully account for a chronological understanding of Sampo’s identity; if he is trying to communicate something about his identity or situation to us through this event, I find it more likely that the inclusion of the ice would be a cry for help than any kind of “hey, I created these fucked up things this one time.” … And we’re back at square one!

— There are a few alternate theories, like if Sampo was captured or “stolen” to then be turned into a toy, or even if he designed the toys themselves only to be betrayed by Aha forcing him to be just the same as them — a prison of his own making, if you will — but it’s all speculation.

— I really want to believe he’s in this predator-prey, creator-created grey area so we can get the best of both worlds, but there’s just not enough concrete evidence to say for sure.

— (The repeated phrase “Collectible and Value-Preserving” also means more here, since the toys themselves would be made to be collectible, as seen in several Simulated Universe occurrences like The *Perfect* Grand Challenge and Ship of Fools!)

— Some of this dialogue also supports the idea that Sampo is more of a creator than a toy himself. “They’re a surefire hit” is very marketing-coded, meaning Sampo’s role here would be more to market and sell these toys than anything else. However, as we’ve mentioned before, it could also be his way of talking around the subject, using other items to, essentially, refer to himself.

— Additionally, he mentions gaining “inspiration,” which leads back to him being a designer, even just on a surface level.

— The inspiration itself, though, is interesting. A “toy bird” with its “expression stuck in horror, emitting a shrill screech whenever you squeeze on it.” If this isn’t the bird from Everlasting Hatred, I don’t know what is. The art for Everlasting Hatred, a Clown’s Item retrieved by Sampo in the Penacony Trailblaze quest, has a direct link to Sampo’s character theme of “hate,” and features a dead bird speared through the chest with an amalgamation of hardened, blackened thorns in the shape of a heart.

— I always assumed this bird was meant to symbolize Sampo, since it’s his “Clown’s Item” (and falls neatly in sequence with the other two), but the way he says “I really loved it” here makes me confused. It seems to imply this bird isn’t him, but is rather someone or something he used to know, some outside object he felt affection for. But if that’s the case, then why is he so specific about it? Why does it still feel like it has the quality of him trying to tell us something?

— If not for that last part, I would want to say Sampo is referring to himself again, referencing a period of time (likely as a toy or another part of Aha’s “collection”) where he was trapped in a horrible situation, likely being used by Aha for something so intensely that his demeanor and sense of self was completely warped.

— (This could also apply to the “Resleeved” experiments in Mundanite Assembly.)

— But, of course, that last line still implies that it was something else?

— Actually, now that I think about it, it’s possible that Sampo finds comfort in this “toy bird” because he relates to it, or because he’s been in a similar situation. I suppose that could explain not only why it is a physical Clown’s Item for him to retrieve, but also why he seems to love a separate object while also trying to convey something about himself. Perhaps him and the bird share similar feelings of distress, pain, and hopelessness, causing him to feel a kinship with it much like he does Belobog. After all, only the disturbed find comfort in the disturbing — and he said it himself, he is disturbed. Perhaps instead of coming up with random ideas, he’s trying to process or vent some part of his own life through these Curios.

— The next paragraph definitely reads like a directly-Sampo conversation, though — “an ice cube can only keep laughing to prevent itself from melting into a puddle of waste water in such a capricious age, haha.” Again, like the bird, this is so specific that I’m not sure who Sampo would be talking about other than himself. The inclusion of “waste water” and “haha” specifically tie things together for him, as “waste” is similar to the trash he is associated with, and “haha” is literally him laughing right after he describes how the ice has to keep laughing to survive. It’s like saying “I have this friend who has to say yippee otherwise they get struck down by a bolt of lightning” and then immediately saying “Yippee!” in a panicked voice while looking nervously at the sky. Despite the way he throws his perspective away from the toy cube at times, I’m still inclined to say it represents him.

— If we go with this interpretation, here’s what I think the ice cube is trying to say: Sampo is or has previously been in a situation where he was considered to be a toy (or at least treated in a similar way), complete with the pain, hopelessness, and dehumanization such a position would impose upon him. As such, his presentation of himself warped, much like the “shrieking” bird and the ice that is “forced” to laugh. Then, continuing forward, he must laugh or be a part of the Elation in order to survive.

— Other ideas may include: Sampo being a “middleman” for these toys, designing them and becoming attached to them in some sort of “disturbed” way. Sampo may also feel a sort of kinship with these toys despite not being one, perhaps because Aha “uses” him for his function in a similar way. (There’s a chance Aha “using” Sampo so much may lead to him breaking, or even being “broken” before, just to tie in to some occurrences and mythology!)

— (Mundanite Assembly also shows “Sampo” breaking and dying in numerous different ways, especially if all the stories are meant to be a chronological look at rebirth / reincarnation.)

— Then, at the very end, Sampo mentions how the toys are getting popular. He even justifies it a little, saying “… the world’s full of turmoil that makes it hard to laugh.” This could be indicative of a general sentiment — “outside looking in” — where he sees the toys as an understandable need in the world, but I have more of a feeling it says something about Sampo himself. To me, it sounds a lot like he’s trying to justify his own pain or suffering, to find some sort of silver lining so that he can understand why this is happening. He makes it sound casual — just enough to throw us off in wondering if he’s really talking about himself or not — but it’s clear he wouldn’t say something like this for no reason.

— (There’s also the chance Sampo is Aha, or at least a manifestation of Them, and is trying to convey something similar to the Primum Mobile: a set of rules where he must laugh, because the Elation may cease to exist if he doesn’t.)

— Overall, I’m more inclined to say Sampo wasn’t originally created as a toy, but rather stolen by Aha and forced to become one (or at least be used as one). And honestly? That’s more horrifying than the original theory!

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 5

.✦ ── ✦.

— “Salutations”… He’s so cute……

— “Full-Auto AetherTurbo Bookmark.” The main thing that sticks out to me here is “Full-Auto,” since it goes back to the idea of something automated, like a toy. I’m not quite sure what “bookmark” is supposed to mean, though? “AetherTurbo” could imply higher existence, such as being or becoming an Emanator, since “aether” is more outside the bounds of traditional elements and “turbo” implies “more” power or speed. A bookmark, however?

— The closest answer I can come to is that since Sampo has been talking about stories quite a bit in this event, it’s something to do with that. Perhaps he was created or has the ability to inhabit a specific “story” or “moment” in time, occupying the niche of a “bookmark” in a greater story. Beyond that, I’m not sure, at least through name alone.

— I’m guessing this Curio though, in a general sense, may be meant to represent the “hot-blooded past” he mentions later, since the art is of a feather on fire (and, well, fire is hot!). It’s possible that this, potentially being his time as an Emanator, could symbolize a jump in power as well as whatever “niche” he occupied during that time — maybe it had something to do with stories or something similar.

— The imagery of a phoenix is not lost on me, either, as that carries a very specific theme of being “reborn” that may also point towards his departure from “toy” or otherwise “powerless” status to something more self-sustaining. Becoming a new self, and all that.

— “Apply the principles of etheric wave dynamics to help you finish books you don’t have time to read!” If anything, I feel like this may support the relation between Sampo and Aha even more. To me, “etheric wave dynamics” fall in line with Sampo’s… everything, so far, from his original fluid state to even his traits as a playable character. Then, “to help you finish books you don’t have time to read” speaks very much to a condition or use, or a very specific purpose. We are moving away from the plain, marketable, cookie-cutter idea of a toy that is forced to laugh, and towards a higher, more specific form of existence. I interpret this niche to be something like a right-hand man, or at least an assistant — Sampo, in this case, would be the one finishing those unread books, while whoever his creator is is sending him out to do it.

Note: I have just finished reading through Mundanite Assembly, and will be attempting to make tentative connections / interpretations more often from here on out. (I will be assuming the “you” in these stories is Sampo, and addressing him accordingly.) In terms of this new information, the “bookmark” could also represent Sampo attempting to understand his past lives or experiments, which could be the “books” he doesn’t have time to read. 

— “(Just like the famous storyteller!)” may also apply to Aha, since the Elation and Masked Fools seem to be focused on the impact of stories and storytelling — just take the Ship of Fools occurrence, where the entire Aha-coded event is basically a train of stories framed as “jokes”. 

— Sampo also specifies that the product makes you feel like you’ve read a certain book, not the act of actually learning and understanding.

— This may be a shorthand way for him to try and experience his past lives, or it could be a way of conveying how Aha sends Their Emanators or dolls out to accomplish tasks They don’t want to / don’t feel like doing Themselves (a la “venting extreme emotions”). 

— (The phoenix may also be indicative of Sampo’s many “lives,” especially the “Resleeved” story in Mundane Assembly where he is taken through many experimental lives in short succession.)

— Similar to what he says in his “first meeting” line about being a “businessman, chaperone, and problem-solving conversationalist” rolled into one; the idea of the stall selling multiple (sometimes unexpected or uncommon) Curios and the idea of he himself taking on multiple professions can also lead to the idea that he, from an identity standpoint, occupies multiple functions or niches. In this way, the stall selling stationery could also be a means to convey how Sampo operates in “multiplicity” as well.

— This is a good piece of interpretation for theory combination, as themes of multiplicity are very much present throughout his character. In this way, Mundanite Assembly could function as a way to convey points of his life associated with the Erudition — he is a machine, a source of knowledge, an organic-inorganic experiment of wonder — while things like his Eidolons could convey his time with the Elation as a Doll, Emanator, or otherwise. Basically, these things may not be in conflict with one another narratively; it is entirely possible Sampo is all of this at once. 

— As for his pop-up event? I’m still tempted to say it is somewhat chronological, if only because it follows a line from non-sentient to advanced consciousness. However, the meanings of each timeline could be twofold: both his backstory with the Erudition and his place within the Elation currently.

— “If people get too obsessed with the outcome, they’ll be driven mad.” This seems to line up with “Resleeved” and several other points of Mundanite Assembly, as the scholar performing experiments on him was clearly unhinged. 

— However, Sampo also treats the bookmark as a dangerous object with an amount of “influence” and danger. It’s possible he is referring to himself as something that can easily drive knowledge-seekers into madness, or even the general idea of “knowledge” being enough to move someone to insanity.

— “To become more open-minded, one must first learn to be self-deprecating.” This feels like a reference to “Windup World (III)” where the Tavern expresses clearly that it is “open-minded” before… well… playing quite a horrible “joke” on Sampo. 

— The next part is one I’m torn in two directions on. The “mental torment without hope of escape” he mentions and the mustering “courage” to complain could be a reference to the clear mental torment of “Resleeved (II)”s experiments, and complaining about dinner could also link to “Printed Truths (II)” where he eats the Curio apple. However, this seems a bit… off from those stories. The experiments eventually break him instead of offering him any genuine escape, and the “apple” he eats doesn’t lead to any escape either. In both cases, he meets horrible ends; the only way it could be an “escape” is if he was aware he would die and be reborn free of his situation, but… he never seems to self-aware of that in these stories, at least not explicitly.

— Which leads me to the other option: this line of thinking may be him attempting to apply vague “knowledge” of past experiences to a current situation he faces. If he finds himself in an unsavory situation within the Elation, especially one focused around the “interest” or “amusement” of another party, then perhaps this line of thinking is prudent; after all, the act of complaining can often spoil the mood, and being a “let-down” may be a good way of diverting unwanted attention or amusement. A toy is meant to be fun, after all, and what use is it if it isn’t?

— He also specifies that he’s not a “comedic actor,” and when following that up with talking about those who “disregard the comedy of their routines” in favor of “doing their utmost to let others hear their own laughter,” it seems like a pretty big reference to “Windup World (III)” where the Masked Fool uses him in an “opening act” by making him, essentially, kill himself in front of a live audience. Obviously, this would be extremely traumatic for Sampo, while the “comedian” fits the description of someone who doesn’t care about the pain or distress of others as long as it makes them laugh. 

— Sampo’s resulting worry — “Heavens, that’s so scary. Please don’t become someone like that.” — makes sense as well, as that traumatic event would cause him to be pretty shaken up when discussing the topic. The idea of us, a “friend,” becoming associated with the fear and adrenaline of that night is simply too much for him to consider.

— It’s also possible that Aha could also be referenced here, since the point of the Laughter is to… well, laugh. Despite Aha being a conceptual being, Sampo may view some of Their jokes as being cruel or unfair, especially if we’re taking a Doll!Sampo leaning. Aha may view it as funny, as a way to prioritize Their Laughter that rings throughout the universe, but from Sampo’s perspective it wouldn’t be comedic at all, just cruel.

— Overall, I do feel like this day heavily references not just “Windup World (III),” but phoenix-like rebirth and hints towards a current “trapped” situation. 

— From an Emanator or Elation standpoint, rebirth may also be symbolic of a transformation we simply don’t see in Mundanite Assembly, something occupying the gap between that night at the tavern and the Sampo we see today.

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 6

.✦ ── ✦.

— “Synesthesia Omnihelper” could refer to his position within the Elation, either as an Emanator or a Masked Fool. The “omnihelper” in this catches my eye, as it implies a job as both an assistant and someone of a flexible position. “Synesthesia” could apply to Sampo’s ability to travel many places and talk to many people, as well as be a link to several points in Mundanite Assembly where synthetic Curios and the general themes of technological / space-time knowledge are present.

— “Resolve workplace troubles” sounds like it might have a link to the times where Sampo was working with other scholars or researchers in an attempt to, generally, gain different types of knowledge. The “dynamically provided solutions” also sound like part of his position in “Dousing Flames (II)” and “Printed Truths (III)”; essentially, when he was in the vicinity of others he could express his opinions to. Qingque’s comment of “It keeps praising me and asking me to work harder” also lines up with “Dousing Flames (II)” where the only real dialogue options you can pick are expressing optimism or pessimism (not exactly any useful solutions). 

— Another interpretation is that this could be his current situation: perhaps he functions as a sort of “helper” within the Masked Fools or even to Aha Themself, doing the dirty work or solving certain issues that come with being as meticulous yet chaotic as the Elation.

— It’s possible that it doesn’t even have anything to do with the Elation at all, but rather Sampo’s general attempts to help Belobog and the Trailblazer, “guiding” us in a way using his wealth of experience and knowledge. 

— However, I am fairly sure this state of being an “omnihelper” may be the job he’s expressed burnout with before; constantly being an assistant to someone else in their (or Their) pursuit of certain goals must become tiring after a time, and maybe he finally just wants to prioritize himself for once. 

— Also, “(This one’s for real!)” is backed up by a commenter saying it’s a “legitimate product,” which could add to the idea that Sampo really is trying to help, or at least tell us the truth.

— I do think there are certain things that are still difficult or even functionally impossible for him to say, but lord knows he’s trying his best!

— Lil easter egg! It is very cute!

— I like how much he likes us — for the first time, we really get an explicit confirmation he cares about us. Despite the casualness of his facade, there’s a surprising amount of love in there. 

— We also feel like we “need to accept these dividends first,” which is yet another tie to his mythological function. Whatever his past lives may have been, whatever differences his backstory may hold, the Sampo we know is the Sampo he is now. He’s still a businessman at heart, and he still wants to help us. And, maybe, for now at least, that’s all that really matters. :)

— Again, it feels like he’s referring to himself here, like he’s surprised at just how many people need his help. Especially when thinking in terms of Belobog and the Trailblazer, there sure seems to be a lot of people who could use the help of someone like him. He also seems to have quite a bit of empathy, asking “How much hardship must people be suffering from…” in a way that seems like he’s… sad? Wistful? Either way, it feels like he understands the need for the “omnihelper” as well as what it symbolizes.

— He comes back to the World’s End Tavern as well, this time detailing how the Tavern only closes its doors to one type of person: someone who is so robot-like that they do the same mundane things over and over.

— At first, I was tempted to say this may be a reference to mass-produced stuffed toys that only exist to be beaten and play the same jingle over and over, but even the stuffed toys have an element of chaos in whether they grant you rewards or not, not even taking into account the spontaneous combustions that can happen. (Plus, “robotic” doesn’t exactly seem like something Aha would be too fond of.) 

— Although Sampo quantifies this as a fable, I also feel like he mentions it for a reason — there must be some truth to it, otherwise why would he bring it up? My best guess is, if not the toys, it may be Sampo’s way of speculating over his own existence. If Mundanite Assembly is to be interpreted as Sampo-related, he would have quite literally been a robotic device at some point. Whether he knows the full extent of these past lives or not, he may be wryly (even ironically) noting how the Masked Fools shun the exact type of person he used to be. 

— The “Who wouldn’t have an ounce of hectic excitement in their lives? I’d love to meet such a person, haha.” line could be a source of dramatic irony within the story, as we the viewer may be more aware of how his past fits with this than he does himself. It could be him reminiscing on how far he’s come and how much his view of the world has changed, or it could simply be a way for Star Rail to convey a more simple idea: that he simply likes having fun.

— I do feel like it could point towards that “gap” in time we don’t know much about. It’s possible that, for whatever reason, there was a time he was shunned from the Tavern for acting this way, and that’s how he knows so much about it. This could have been incited by them finding out about his past identities, him changing when he gained power or even became an Emanator, or whatever clownfuckery Aha might have going on with him. It could even be indicative of burnout or “Cloud of Doubt.” 

— As he said before, if he had been in some sort of unending, mental torment within the Masked Fools (perhaps being used as a plaything or puppet by Aha Themself), then perhaps he had to act like this, had to act like a simple robot unable to do anything but complain over and over and over again until They set him free. He might not even be free, but simply acting in a small reprieve of time granted by trying to deflect the gaze of something or someone determined to find him “interesting.” After all, there’s a chance the people attending that comedy show in “Windup World (III)” liked his opening act a little too much.

— In his last little bit of dialogue, he talks about farces. I’m not sure if this is meant to be about the Masked Fools or Aha directly, as I feel like it could be both. On one hand, his description of a farce’s departure from a regular comedy lines up with he chaos of the Fools, especially the part about the script having no rhythm and the actors stepping on each other’s toes. It definitely seems like each Fool does think they are the center of the world. 

— However, the chaos of Aha’s splash art and their “collection” of masks / items could mean this is about Them too — a cynical take from Sampo that turns the concept of “comedic Elation” on its head. “Twisting around together” really reminds me of Aha’s splash art with just how many items are present. Aha as an entity seems to be a very complicated, twisting thing, so even if They aren’t referred to directly in these lines, They may at least be implicated. After all, action and inaction may be the same in Sampo’s eyes. If Aha doesn’t intercede in the Fools’ affairs — simply allowing them to carry on with their farce because it’s amusing to watch — then that may be just as bad as being part of the farce itself. The question becomes: What’s worse — an Aeon making a cruel joke Themself, or an Aeon simply watching in amusement as that cruel joke plays out?

— Either way, we know Sampo has personal experience with this, since he says it sounds “eerily similar to real life” and expresses his explicit distaste. Whether it was the Masked Fools, Aha, or a specific Fool (like the one in “Windup World (III)”), it’s likely Sampo has been deeply annoyed or even hurt by those that carry out the “farce.”

.✦ ── ✦.

Day 7

.✦ ── ✦.

— “Unlocking the secrets of the universe” seems like something pretty big — potentially a goal Sampo is currently trying to reach in the present. (“Just kidding” is, of course, present, but it feels like something tacked on as a half-hearted assurance, perhaps trying to circumvent any speech limitations.)

— “The Manifest Life of Eternally Homing.” To be honest, I didn’t fully understand this one until I read through Mundanite Assembly. I could potentially see it as a wandering Doll!Sampo who surpassed the limitations of his function and is attempting to find who he wants to be, or a Curio Hacker-related want to find answers for a difficult situation. Now, though, especially with the mention of gaining “detailed insights into your past and present lives,” I believe it is referencing the fact Sampo may have lived numerous lives before this one.

— Mundanite Assembly’s stories are a bit unclear to me on if Sampo has ever been aware of his eternally looping forms of existence, but either way I can understand if he wants more information on who he is, who he has been, and honestly, just what the hell is going on. He may even be as confused as we are, attempting to understand anything about his own existence and why he is the way that he is. There’s a chance he may even be breaking the fourth wall in an attempt to subvert the bounds of the game and find information like that hidden in the Unknowable Domain.

— This makes me think that he’s found some sort of higher way, bargain, or deal to use these “big data algorithms” to his advantage; he may be a wonder of nature and engineering, but there are certain things only Emanators or Aeons may be able to help him understand. I’m inclined to say Aha or Nous is involved here, heavy on the Aha. Nous may be willing to help based on how linked Sampo is to all sorts of information (and the fact he is on one big long quest for knowledge), but the mention of “Take It Easy, Icarus” from earlier makes me think Aha is amused at seeing just how far Sampo will be able to go in his search.

— “Guaranteed answers” here makes me go right back to Nous, though, since knowledge is definitely Their domain. Plus, They might help Sampo just because of how significant his existence is in the first place. Hell, maybe both Aha and Nous are in on it at the same time. I can see both sides: Aha interested in seeing how Sampo’s honestly crazy bonkers story continues (if Mundanite Assembly is anything to go by), or Nous directly inspiring him on his quest to find more knowledge about the universe and the nature of his miraculous existence. (IX might even be here, too, due to Sampo’s playable Path.)

— “You will make the same choice as you do now” is an interesting thing for March to mention in her comment; assuming this Curio works, it may say something about her future story or identity. Perhaps there have been other times in her past where she has made similar choices, and no amount of amnesia can change who she is at her core, nor what decisions she will continue to make. (Sampo even confirms a bit of this when he says “your spirit will always stay the same”.)

— It could also point to a loop in Sampo’s existence — most of his lives to tend to meet similar, violent ends (being “broken,” burned alive, shot through the head and the chest, etc.) — which may mean he makes some kind of “butterfly effect” choice over and over and over again to warrant these gruesome demises. (Hey, throwback to the mundane, repeating “robot” from Day 6!) Similarly to March, it’s possible that even if he makes different “choices” in each of his lives, his spirit — the nature of the “Sampo,” the nature of breaking — will always stay the same. It’s an enormous burden to try and escape, that’s for sure.

— (Also, the art of the Curio shows code in the background, perhaps alluding to his self-awareness and awareness of the game itself, as well as his attempts to break free of what is confining him. Additionally, the Curio itself is surrounded by a sort of barrier or seal, which supports the idea he is bound by his current situation — maybe even unable to speak about certain things.)

— Either way, this man has a lot of conditions on his existence, and I wish him all the luck in finding out whatever is going on.

— Even with all this talk of Mundanite Assembly, Sampo still circles back around to the express idea of selling, monetizing, and money-making at the end. While some of the stories in Mundanite Assembly do emphasize research funds and money, I really think it has more to do with who Sampo is now than who he used to be. Perhaps this is part of a “deal” he made, or perhaps this is a core part of his existence finally coming to the forefront. 

— In a way, maybe the Elation is helping him reconcile positive emotions with business. “Fun and money-making,” he says, perhaps for the first time. For the first time, he might be able to see himself as more than just a tool, more than just an experiment, more than just a puppet on a string. He has a function, of course, but he’s realized he can fulfill it in a way that’s fun for him. A way that acknowledges his personhood and his value. And honestly, I’m happy for him! So much of his life (even lives) has sucked so incredibly much at so many different points that I just want him to be happy for once, goddamnit!

— “I have nothing to hide anyway” feels true, in a sense. I really do think, given the way he details having drinks with friends at the tavern and exchanging stories, he is telling us as much as he’s possibly able to. He’s honest about his interest in “funny tales” and self-creating stories, and even says the meme was “gifted by a friend” of his. However, there are obvious gaps, clear instances of vague wording where there should be detail. For example, who are the friends he had drinks with? Who was the friend who gifted him the meme? Any amount of detail would suffice. It’s strange that he specifies run-ins with Knights of Beauty and Masked Fools during this event, but can’t provide any tiny hint as to who these friends are now.

— It goes back to my theory that he is bound by certain limitations, that he can only say or do certain things — when it seems he is approaching too close to a topic, he becomes this vague, cryptic mess. I feel like this “friend” might be whoever he’s made a deal with, or whoever is responsible for his limitations. Perhaps that’s why he can’t specify who they are — because he literally can’t. Of course I want to believe this is Aha, but it could also be literally anyone else of higher power. 

— Sampo also mentions he’s had adventurous run-ins, much like the Nameless. It makes sense, then, why he would feel a sort of kinship with us; especially if his “past lives” are as varied as those mentioned in Mundanite Assembly, he may feel a sort of connection with how often the Nameless change stories and locations. Constantly traveling, constantly fighting, constantly being thrust into new and unexplored situations — that seems very much like something that would be related to Sampo.

— (Also, “hot-blooded” past is specific and interesting wording. I remember his blood literally boiling in “Resleeved (III)” so it could be a more literal take on events, or it could be indicative of a time, likely with the Masked Fools, where he was, to put it simply, probably batshit crazy. At the very least, he might’ve been impulsive, arrogant, or combative, really anything that would match with the connotations of “hot-blooded”. It could also reference events like his revenge in “Windup World (I)”.)

— “It’s pointless to talk about my past adventures” also feels like he’s trying to avoid a topic where he may have limitations on what he can say. “Pointless” may be that he doesn’t think we need to know, or it may be that it simply wouldn’t be worth the effort of fighting against some limitation he can’t surpass in the first place.

— The, he leaves to “go have a drink,” which, besides having links to the Elation’s goblet-filled imagery, establishes that Sampo is a man who likes to have a drink. And just what did Boothill find that Elation Emanator doing? Exactly.

— I also love the idea of a full circle here, as “Printed Truths (II)” deals explicitly with the lack of the ability to synthesize Curios, and here we are… synthesizing Curios. You go get ‘em, Sampo!

— And, obviously, we have the first explicit depiction of Sampo’s mythology in canon: dialogue lines taken straight from the Kalevala. I’m not too clear on how this fits into specific theories, only that it directly plays into his theme of “producing wealth,” as well as being trapped in a situation where he must carry out his function. The “function” itself could be Elation-related, laughter-related (as mentioned on Day Four), money/wealth-related (as supported by Aha Stuffed Toy and his mythology itself), or even all three! 

— One thing’s for sure, he is one enigma of a man. He’s at least aware enough of the poem to sing it, although it’s unclear if it exists in-universe or if this is yet another crazy fourth wall-break.

— Anyways, I’ve yapped long enough, it’s time for me to summarize my thoughts!

— Here it is: the event summarized in all its glory. Let’s get into the breakdown!

— General: Clearly, Sampo is trying to tell us something with all of this. It’s just too… detailed, chronological, as if taken from his own experiences. I feel like there are certain things he can’t or won’t say, and as such has to rely on this “pop-up shop” as a means of talking his way around the subject, hoping we’ll pick up what he’s trying to put down. At the very least, he just wants to have a little fun. At face value, we’re simply synthesizing random Curios. But nothing’s ever so simple with Sampo, so there’s something here. The only issue is getting down to what it is; and, well, if you’ve read this far, you’ve probably realized there’s a lot of options. The event is specific yet vague, general yet complicated, shallow yet incredibly deep. And honestly? I still don’t know what it all means. I can only do my best to speculate. So speculate I shall!

— Mundanite Assembly: Day One and Two would be his original form, floating in the ether and untouched by man (likely mechanical in nature); Day Three would be this original form being harnessed by the woman in “Those Remembered (I)”, being “stolen” from wherever he was waiting; Day Four and Five, generally, may deal with events surrounding the experimentation in “Resleeved” and subsequent research in “Dousing Flames” (I am more inclined to put “Dousing Flames” with Day Four due to the running theme of fire, although the phoenix imagery may fit with experimentation more); Day Six would be “Printed Truths” and the Path research that went on there; Day Seven would be the present, with Sampo attempting to understand his “past lives,” either through revealing what they were in the first place, or gaining some sort of key insight based on memories he already has. He is likely trying to convey his existence in a way that won’t overwhelm us, and also in a way that works with whatever “limitations” he has. His talk of the Fools would place “Windup World (III)” as the beginning of the time gap, where we just have his word to go off of. In this time, he likely experienced that cruel puppet joke, joined the Fools, and potentially gained power or some sort of “deal” to accomplish his goals going forward.

— Doll!Sampo: Simply put, chronologically, an element being drawn into form — created — by the act of “stealing” something from the heavens, then turned into an Aha Stuffed Toy that must laugh to survive (even through external force). This would be Days One through Three. Day Four would be a “phoenix-like” rebirth into an Emanator or Fool of higher status, which Day Five would then turn into a specific niche for him to occupy in Aha’s “collection” — that of a helper or assistant. Day Six is once again indicative of the present, with him trying to subvert the conditions of his own existence as a creation of Elation. It’s also possible that Mundanite Assembly happened long ago and, after being messed with by the Fools, Sampo was “stolen” and reforged into a toy by Aha or even the Fools themselves. (Basically, Mundanite Assembly and Doll!Sampo don’t have to conflict with one another; they can still fit chronologically. It’s possible the Sampo we know now has all the past backstory Mundanite Assembly has to offer, but the event simply starts at the act of Aha plucking him out and “stealing” him.)

— Aha!Sampo: Days One and Two would indicate a “conceptual” or Aeonic existence, while Day Three and Four would be Aha potentially finding a way to have a mortal form or siphon some part of Themself into a “vessel.” Day Five would be the “rebirth” of either a new Aha taking the old one’s place, or Aha’s consciousness being reborn into this new form. Day Five would be this new persona — that of a helper — which would then lead to Day Six, where They attempt to find Their true purpose beyond the restrictions of the Primum Mobile (or even circumvent those restrictions in the first place).

— Emanator!Sampo: No matter what theory we’re dealing with, I’m inclined to say Day Four or Day Six are the best indicators of a shift to Emanatorhood. Day Four has its imagery of phoenix rebirth, which could symbolize a shift in power or a rebirth into a higher form of existence, while Day Six could be his present status breaking through the fourth wall and attempting to accomplish whatever it is his current goal is. This can work with Mundanite Assembly and Doll Theory, as in those I’ve already mentioned how I feel Emanator status could work.

— Non-Chronological: This could, generally, not even be about a specific order of events in Sampo’s life, but rather different parts of his worldview, identity, or interests. It’s possible that all of these conditions exist at the same time — he may be conceptual, and organic, and a toy, and a jumble of code, and a phoenix in the process of rebirth. This would allow for a more experimental look at things, with all structure set aside to look at the core of who he is. He’s not just something stolen, but a helper, too. He’s not just a lost soul looking to circumvent the lines of code that bind him, he’s a man in a constant state of rebirth, inventing and re-inventing himself until he’s satisfied. He’s burning his wings while being trapped in the confines of ice, laughing because he has to and sparking because he doesn’t. He’s everything, all at once.

— Non-Identity: If not Sampo’s identity, these Curios could be symbolic of people he knows, or simply just Curios he finds interesting. My most viable thought here is that each Curio symbolizes a part of Aha’s “collection” — or Their Emanators who all have different purposes and personalities. I want to say Sampo is symbolized by Day Six because of the Curio Hacker occurrence, with other Curios being Emanators who range from pure elemental energy to machine devices to stuffed toys. Although, it is possible Sampo can be shuffled around here, as Doll!Sampo is more likely to be the ice cube and his current “helper” role lines up with “Synesthesia Omnihelper.” Sampo can actually fit with all of these, which is why I really feel like it is identity-related, but I still wanted to cover all the bases I could.

Overall, wow, that’s a lot! If I’m being completely honest, I’m still confused (as I feel most of us are). The more I think about this event, the more it seems like a giant puzzle box to me, turning and turning and turning again every time I get close to an answer. Perhaps that’s how Sampo feels about his own existence, and why he’s trying so hard to figure himself out. I really hope this analysis didn’t come across as a scattered mess, because that’s definitely what I felt like writing it. I wanted to get my thoughts out, but there are so many alternative options and theories that I could barely get my head straight! It felt nice to get it out, though, and whatever happens, I’m happy we got to talk to Sampo again. He’s just so interesting! Anyways, I’m going to go take a nice, long nap now. I’ll leave you with some key questions to consider — bye!

.✦ ── ✦.

Key Questions

.✦ ── ✦.

— Did Aha “steal” Sampo from another creator, such as an Aeon or organization? If so, how and for what purpose? (If not Aha, then who may have “stolen” him?)

— What is Sampo’s true identity? We know certain things about his mythological function, but how does that translate into the HSR universe?

— What is the timeline of his “abandonment”? When was he left on Belobog, and by who? Was Belobog even the place he was left, or was it somewhere else?

— Was he originally elemental energy, electricity, or something conceptual? Was he organic or inorganic? And, if Aha did “steal” him, what changes were made to his form?

— How does Sampo feel about Aha? Is Aha a cruel, thieving presence in his life? Are They an accepting, freeing one? Are They a distant, unreachable god? Are They a mix of all three?

— What is Sampo’s relationship with the Aha Stuffed Toys? Was he created as one himself? Was he turned into one when he was stolen? Did he “create” them at the behest of Aha? Does he simply act as a middleman to get them from one place to another?

— What is Sampo's connection to Mundanite Assembly, if any? How might the days of this event fit in with each "chapter" of the Unknown Domain chronology?

— And, for heaven's sake, who the hell is this man?

— thanks for reading to the end! :)

— here's links (one | two) to posts with the memes i wanted to include because i literally hit the image limit on this LOL!

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[legally-allowed-to-slime]

Can’t even lie man I’ve been offline all day and i immediately went to your blog to read your takes on the session and Pearl n gem n co. after watching some wild life. Thanks for having the best takes lol

genuinely, it’s an honour. crazy to me that anyone would come to this blog for good takes, they never make any sense and i’m always suspiciously resentful towards c!scott. i’ll take this opportunity to lay out my gempearl thoughts as well

first of all, it drives me insane the way pearl usually goes along with whatever scott and cleo says, but the only thing she consistently, and has repeatedly, contradicted them on is that she’s been antagonising gem. in fact at the start of the session scott poked her about it again and she laid out a short monologue to assert that his claims were invalid. funnily enough she goes back on this a few seconds later saying that “i’ll make her have a reason to hold that grudge” which honestly is not helping her case. however if gem can make vague threats about impulse i don’t see why pearl can’t do the same. women’s wrongs and all that.

and then after that scott tells impulse and pearl to apologise to gem and joel. again, it’s a bit odd to me how they keep harping on this bit, but every time they do, all they do is scold impulse for rightfully constantly accusing gem over the cows, and then impulse apologises, yet pearl is still implicated (for NOTHING). pearl did protest this point earlier that she was “just existing”, scott counters that “i don’t know what you’ve done but you’ve annoyed her”, so “keep your distance”.

and to think that the argument only happened because scott made a throwaway comment about a “request” he had for pearl if she wanted a life from him. i feel like he meant it as a funny aside and expected pearl to just shut up and take it, but pearl never shuts up and takes it so that’s the problem there.

also, on secret life: pearl argues that she was right to ally with scar, which like, okay, fair enough, but scott says that “it takes time” and that “look we’re together” i’m not sure why he’s under the perception that GGG is in anyway functional or healthy considering he himself is trashtalking impulse and pearl with gem geminitay (ok sorry i’m just salty over him being buddy buddy with gem). at one point cleo goes “we have to be enablers” (lowkey incorrect because pearl hasn’t done anything, you can’t enable someone to just do nothing, but i appreciate the sentiment) and pearl just starts. throwing eggs at the ground. really funny out of context.

now for the actual gempearl interaction (we get like one and a half per episode i’m actually starving). they’re so obsessed with each other. trust me i said so. pearl beelining to gem to say “hi gem! :D” and gem beelining to pearl to punch her and say “go home pearl” oh they make me ill i feel like they’re just constantly on each other’s minds. the problem is that we haven’t gotten a good gempearl interaction because when they’re near each other their allies are also hanging around, so it always ends up with gem getting glazed by scott or pearl getting distracted by bigb or something like that. it’s such a pity because gem specifically went to find the 4Gs’ base but she went to the old one instead of the new one where pearl was hanging around so we could have potentially gotten a 1 on 1 shiny duo interaction this session (i’m not sure about the timeline there) but we DIDN’T because gem’s not talked to the 4Gs enough to know that they moved bases. grrr.

and then gem drops the anger for a bit to encourage pearl to kill grian. i have NO idea what that’s about, i feel like she’s just into bloodthirst in general but what it does remind me of is her trying to convince pearl to kill the ender dragon in SL, coincidentally, when pearl was impulse’s butler. and now she’s encouraging pearl to carry out what impulse wants. i don’t know. maybe her type is murderers and she’s trying to give pearl a chance. or something

anyway as for the other half an interaction where gem finds etho pearl and cleo at her base, gem reverts back to loudly disparaging pearl within earshot. i feel like she’s nailed “ex who really wants you to know that you’re exes”, and pearl getting so indignant about it she can’t even form a sentence for a few seconds is great actually. might be a reach but whether on hermitcraft or life series, pearl tends to stumble over her words a lot when directly challenged by gem, which is probably just because she’s thinking hard on what to say and is sleep deprived half the time. but i find it pretty telling that pearl doesn’t say anything back to gem and just. leaves. it’s very obvious she’s still down bad for gem in a way but gem is intentionally making it very hard for pearl to remain so.

last paragraph. when joel visits pearl at their new base, joel is happy that pearl called his build a car and said she liked it (pearl likes cars fork found in kitchen). so joel and pearl are on good terms, which i expect would lead to interesting dynamics but at the same time joel would definitely follow gem’s lead over maintain that friendship but still his perception of pearl now is positive. so that’s intriguing

song of the day is down bad by taylor swift. trust me guys they want each other so bad

[tomorrowxtogether]

SOOBIN: “I thought I should just try to shine as I am.”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview

2024.11.11

He once strived to become a lush, towering forest. But he realized that people will love him for exactly what he is—a deep, rolling ocean. And so, he decided to remain as whom he always has been: an ocean named SOOBIN.

You took a trip to Vietnam earlier this year with BEOMGYU. I heard you planned the whole thing. SOOBIN: I’m usually the kind of person who just goes around without a real plan, but since we don’t get much vacation time, I figured we’d better go all out and do everything we could in one go, so I tried planning it all out. (laughs) BEOMGYU just wanted to go with the flow, but there was a ton of stuff I wanted to do.

I’m sure it’s not easy taking a trip or spending your off time with the same people you spend all your time with. SOOBIN: I hang out a lot with the rest of the group on my own time too, though. Three of us were all hanging out together just yesterday. To be perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel like anything special since we’re always together 365 days a year, but I’m also most comfortable around them for the same reason.

Sometimes people start bickering with each other when they get too comfortable with one another, but you’re always so kind—like how you gifted BEOMGYU with a nap in that “The Perfect Way to Rest” video when you remembered he was feeling tired. SOOBIN: I think I’m good at picking up on things. I don’t know if I can do it with everyone, but at least with the other members of the group, I’m pretty good at telling how they’re feeling or if they’re not feeling well. As soon as I see one of them, I can tell, Oh, he looks a little rough today, or, He’s sure in a good mood today. (laughs) If they seem down, I go over to them to find out what’s wrong and talk it over.

Your kindness also comes across when you’re with animals, like in the “OUR TOMORROW” video, where you took care of one dog who was so nervous that it didn’t get a chance to eat any treats. Have you always been drawn to people and creatures that are small and left out? SOOBIN: So, so much. In fact, I was really shy and struggled to fit in when I was a trainee. I was really lonely at first. So when time passed and I finally got accustomed to things, if I saw another trainee who was shy and couldn’t adjust, I felt like looking out for them. Kai was among them. (laughs) That’s how I ended up becoming really close with him.

You talked about the cat your sister adopted recently, explaining how it used to be shy because it had a hard life in the past but that it finally opened up this year. SOOBIN: I went to see the cat when my sister first got it, but I couldn’t even see it that first time—it just hid under the couch. It was so shy that I thought I’d never get to pet it, but the last time I saw it, it came right up to me and started purring, wanting to be petted. It was able to overcome its painful past and open up to my family thanks to all the love they show looking after it. Love really does have the power to change anything. (laughs)

You also said on weverse LIVE recently that you made a new friend who you can talk about dramas, movies, and books with. SOOBIN: For me, dramas and movies don’t end with watching them—after you’re done watching, that’s when things are just getting started. I always look up reviews and analyses online. People can watch the same thing and they’ll all have their own thoughts on it, so I’m curious about all those different views, and now I have someone to talk about that with. They know a lot more about books and movies than I do, so I end up learning a lot when we’re sharing our thoughts together. Just having a friend to share my interests with is really fun.

You mentioned talking about Inside Out 2, and you looked at how it features a place to store things you’ve heard that you want to keep for a long time, which got you thinking about what sort of things you would want to hold onto. SOOBIN: I kept recalling things my friends say after we hang out—things like, “SOOBIN, I’m so happy we’re friends,” and, “I feel great whenever I’m with you.” Hearing things like that really touches my heart. Seriously, how often do you get to hear things like that in life? I used to find expressing things like that awkward and weird, but thanks to my friends, I’m getting used to saying I love and appreciate people. You empathized with how Anxiety works harder and feels more anxious than others because they want to be good at things. Are there things you feel you should work harder at than other people? SOOBIN: I’m actually slower at learning choreography compared to the other members. I assumed I’d get a lot better after debuting and regularly performing onstage, but progress was slower than I expected. I didn’t say anything about this before, and I even kept it a secret from the other members, but I actually got separate choreo lessons on the side when we were doing “Chasing That Feeling” and “Deja Vu.” We’d take lessons as a group, and then once I was alone I’d always spend about an hour dancing and working on the little details. I tried so hard with those two most recent songs that I even practiced on my own like that. Seeing as I’m slow, I have to work harder to keep up with the other members. If I have more time, I want to practice more for this comeback, too.

With all the touring you’ve done and the encore performances you have coming up, it must’ve been really hectic getting ready for your Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback. SOOBIN: The schedule was really tight this time around—we even had to record vocals in Japan in the middle of the tour since we were in and out of the country—but now that we’re in our sixth year, the five of us were all really fast about things. I could sense that we had grown compared to before since we were faster at recording than we could’ve expected to be in the past and it took us less time to work out the details of the choreography.

The album’s subtitle, SANCTUARY, is a word that’s appeared in TOMORROW X TOGETHER albums before. What’s been your sanctuary these days? SOOBIN: I never used to have a sanctuary, which made getting through tough times hard, but I do now: simple things like working out or reading. It feels like the things that break me away from overthinking and let me immerse myself in something else are my sanctuary.

You were complimented on your previous promotions for your improved vocals and high notes. What about on this album? SOOBIN: Actually, every other album we’ve done had a song in a genre I wasn’t confident in, but not this time. The single “Over The Moon” is really laid-back, and I felt like it was perfect timing for us to try out a song like that. What’s unfortunate is that I caught this horrendous cold during recording. We started practicing for live performances recently, and the director said, “SOOBIN’s singing better than he did when recording. He makes it sound effortless.” So I couldn’t help but think about how much better I could’ve done if only my throat had been in better shape.

You always focus a lot on lyrics. Were there any on this album that have stuck with you in particular? SOOBIN: This album isn’t so much about telling some big, sweeping story as it is about everything we’ve been through together. Now that we’ve been through all that chaos, it’s about the universal emotion of love, which everyone can relate to, and I liked that about it. There’s a line in “Higher Than Heaven” that sticks with me that goes, “I think I kinda get what forever means now.” I even once said, “I never used to believe in the word ‘forever,’ but I think I can now, thanks to our fans.” I didn’t write that part, but it’s like it was written to perfectly capture my feelings.

The other members have probably had an impact on your belief in the word “forever,” too. SOOBIN: I’m pretty sure we’re going to grow old together and that we’ll be together till the day I die. We do the same thing and basically live the same life day in and day out, so we know what makes each other cry the most during concerts, too. Whether it’s my tears of happiness or BEOMGYU’s tears of disappointment from a leg injury, having friends to understand and share those feelings with is nice. They’re all just really kind people—calm and clear, like a stream. None of us is domineering or splashing around, disturbing the peace, and nobody’s dirtying the water, so I think we’ll be able to stick together for a long, long time.

You said before that you had found being onstage tough while touring. Now that you’ve already wrapped up your third world tour, do you still find that to be the case? SOOBIN: I think I’m getting better over time. I still can’t say that I completely enjoy myself, but the worries I used to have before going onstage have gone away entirely. There used to be times where I found it hard to watch myself onstage because I didn’t like how I looked, but now I see myself up there and I think I look cool. (laughs)

The way you have a different outfit on for every sound check when you’re on tour is definitely cool. SOOBIN: For fans who come even though they’re busy, showing up hours before the concert just to wait, doing it purely out of love, I wanted to be more stylish, so I bought a lot of clothes just for sound checks. The glasses-plus-cardigan combo was something I bought in advance for summer, and the reaction from the audience was amazing! They showed me on the big screen and MOA was screaming their lungs out—like, not the usual “wow,” but, “aah!” Like shock and awe. (laughs) I was worried I went overboard with the look, but they showed they liked it, so I was happy.

There’s no way not to bring up your cover of the Choi Yu Ree song “Forest” when talking about you. You said that the people around you are like tall trees in a forest and that you thought you’re one of them, but that you figured out you’re actually more like the ocean. SOOBIN: It’s easy to find people around me who are better looking and sing and dance better than I do. I actually started thinking about that at Lollapalooza. The other members looked so happy and like they were having so much fun onstage, but I couldn’t. I felt eaten up inside seeing myself not being able to fully enjoy it because of all the pressure. Then I heard Choi Yu Ree explaining that “Forest” is about feeling like you’re not good enough and I thought, “Ah, so that’s what I’ve been going through.” I started to understand my emotions a little bit better. Everyone ends up comparing themselves to others at some point in their lives—it’s unavoidable. And they have times where all they can see are the things they hate about themselves, but it’s ridiculous. I was overflowing with negative feelings when I was working on my “Forest” cover, and I wanted to sort of deal with those feelings and express them.

The music video echoes your thoughts that someday you’ll come to shore and become one with the forest. What does the forest mean to you? SOOBIN: Just being a singer who’s good at singing and dancing, interacting with my fans, enjoying performing, and being able to do it all with complete sincerity. I think I was showing how the forest to me means being happy with the other members when they’re happy. Nothing big—just simple things I’m not always that good at.

Do you feel more like a forest now that some time has gone by? SOOBIN: Umm … I saw a ton of comments from fans after I covered “Forest.” My mindset when I was doing it was, Right now I’m like the ocean, but I’ll become a part of the forest just like you guys—so wait for me until then. But once I saw what fans were writing, I changed my mind and thought, Do I really need to become a part of the forest? I could be similar to the forest, but I don’t have to change myself to be one. My fans kept saying, “The whole reason we liked you in the first place is because you’re like the ocean, not because we hoped you’d become like a forest. If that were the case, we’d like somebody else. Why do you think it was you?” The ocean comes with its own perks, you know. You need to have some ocean near a forest to add to the scenery and have more things to do. Now I think maybe I tried too hard to fit in by trying to be like the forest. Now I feel like I can shine bright just by being myself.

That lines up with what you recently said in an interview you did in Japan when you said that your 20s, the best and most energetic time of life, are dazzling and fun thanks to knowing MOA. What do you think you’ll see when you look back on this youthful period of your 20s? SOOBIN: Joy. Every moment of our lives is packed with good times and bad times, joy and sorrow, but in the end, I think, I’m on a path towards joy. Even things that are so agonizing that you want to die—so bad you feel like the whole world is against you, and so bad you’re certain they’re weighing on you forever, eventually pass.

Doesn’t it almost feel funny sometimes, looking back after all that? (laughs) SOOBIN: Yes. It ends up feeling so trivial somehow. Things that felt massive at the time are like a speck in the distance once you get even a little space between them and yourself. Even after all the hardship I went through being a trainee, I can look back now and see there were a lot of good times. Maybe we tend to romanticize the past a bit? (laughs) Even some of the stuff I’m going through now can be tough, to be honest, but I’m never going to give up. There’s still so much I want to give. The amount of joy I derive from doing this is way higher than the amount of difficulty. I think my life’s amazing, even right now.

So amazing. (laughs) SOOBIN: I think so too! (laughs) As time goes on and I get older, when I look back on my youth, my time with TOMORROW X TOGETHER, I wonder if it’ll look that much more shiny and amazing. Maybe I’ll feel I was even cooler at this time than I feel I am now.

[suzukiblu]

AND! Tim/Not Kon! Carefully navigating a relationship with someone you created to replace your dead best friend, but fell in love with as themself!

“I think you made me kind of a slut, man,” Hunter muses, which would probably not have made Tim choke quite so hard if Hunter hadn’t been speculatively dragging his eyes up his body while he said it.

The part where the other’s draped over the nearest weight bench in this Titans Tower training room and wearing literally nothing but running shorts and sneakers isn’t helping either.

Also Hunter definitely needs a haircut because his hair grew down past his shoulders in development and he didn’t want to cut it after, but Tim is just not emotionally capable of dealing with the barely-restrained curly ponytails and half-ponytails and man-buns he’s been wearing. Just–not even slightly, no. Not even a little bit. 

“You are literally a virgin,” Tim says inanely, trying very hard not to drop either his bo or his literal entire brain on the mats. “I–what? What?” 

Hunter shrugs; rolls onto his back on top of the bench. It leaves him bent backwards over it, back arched and head upside-down as he skims a hand up his bare stomach. Hunter is, somehow, even more tactile and hedonistic than Kon ever was, which Tim is very suddenly being reminded of. 

He debates the merits of panicking. Or maybe, like, running for his life. 

“I said, I think you made me kind of a slut, man,” Hunter repeats, like that’s the part that Tim was trying not to drop his brain over. “Like, either libido-wise or uploads-wise, I dunno.” 

“Wh–I didn’t put anything like–I didn’t–” Tim half-sputters, and the crushing depression that’s taken over most of his life since everyone died on him and Bruce disappeared and Dick gave Robin to Damian is possibly actually just too baffled to be crushing him right now. Hunter gives him a lazy, half-lidded look, tipping his head back a little farther on his neck. His throat is . . . his throat is very, very exposed. And thick. And long and strong and stubbled and– 

Nrgnk, Tim thinks, very faintly.

He did not ever look at Kon’s throat and think things like that. 

He is definitely, definitely thinking those things about Hunter’s, though. 

“Oh my god, you fuckin’ sad-ass wet canary, I don’t mean I think you did it on purpose,” Hunter snorts in exasperation, rolling his eyes like Tim’s an idiot or something. Tim is not an idiot. Tim is actually, like, reasonably intelligent and–he made Hunter. That required being pretty damn smart, actually! Really damn smart, actually! 

. . . and also unfathomably, unfathomably stupid, admittedly. 

“Then what do you mean?” he asks warily, because Hunter is about a month and a half “old”, except also more like nineteen, and has already decided that he does not give a single telekinetically-flying fuck about things like social graces or social filters and it’s frankly a miracle that nobody’s killed him for that yet. Or, uh. Tim. Or killed Tim for that. 

Cassie definitely thought about it, he knows. 

Seriously, though, just–as bad as Kon ever was about anything, Hunter has definitely actively decided to be worse. Which is admittedly a very “Kon” kind of decision to make, except also just . . . absolutely nothing like Kon, at the same time. Hunter literally does not even care that Superman exists, for one thing, and has about as much interest in wearing the “S” as Lex Luthor does, but also does not care Luthor exists either. Like–impressively does not care about either of their existences, in fact. 

Tim might have, uh, overcompensated a little while trying to make sure the “Kon” he was making wouldn’t have as many issues about his gene donors as the real one had, but also Hunter might just be that goddamn contrary. It’s unclear, at this point. 

“Oh, like I keep thinking about fucking climbing somebody,” Hunter says. “Like, literally? I’m pretty sure I could do it literally. You know, could float a bit if I had to, whatever.” 

“I mean, you’re very, uh–tactile,” Tim attempts awkwardly, really not knowing how to approach this conversation. “And still only have about five minutes of experience with actual human contact, but also teenage hormones? So wanting to, uh–be tactile with a lot of people isn’t necessarily, you know . . . uh.” 

“I meant I wanna climb somebody specific, Wet Canary,” Hunter corrects dryly, rolling his eyes again. “Not like, literally everyone I know. Well–okay, also Starfire and Nightwing. But like, Starfire and Nightwing, so can you blame me?” 

“I plead the fifth,” Tim says, since that is his sort-of-brother and his sort-of-brother’s situationship that Hunter is talking about right now and he just . . . he just needs the plausible deniability there at least, okay? And also does not have the time to have a sexuality crisis right now either. Like, that’s just not going to fit in his schedule, despite all Hunter’s–Hunter-ness being a thing. 

“Maybe also Red Hood,” Hunter muses speculatively, drumming his fingers on his stomach. Tim . . . does not know how he feels about that. At all. Either the fact that Hunter is talking like he’s actually attracted to guys, or the fact that one of the guys he apparently finds attractive is Jason.

“You know he literally beat me half to death once, right?” he reminds him. Hunter smirks at him. 

“Yeah, and I bet he looked hot as fuck doing it,” he says. 

“. . . . . . I plead the fifth,” Tim mutters. Hunter drops his head back even further on his neck and cackles. Tim does not think anything about his throat. Like–definitely he does not. 

“Also I would definitely sit in your Bat-daddy’s lap, if you guys ever figure out if he’s dead or not,” Hunter decides, nodding to himself as he says it. 

Tim falls off the mats. Or like–the floor, maybe? Like–that’s just what happens, yeah. Hunter laughs at him again. 

“I hate you,” Tim mutters extremely feelingly, attempting to just . . . just attempting, maybe. Literally he does not even know what he’s “attempting”, except maybe to not to have a heart attack at eighteen and a half. 

“Aw, too bad, ‘cuz you literally made me so therefore you did this to yourself,” Hunter replies with a broad grin. Tim definitely hates him. “Maybe you should work on all that self-punishing shit, man, you coulda made a way nicer guy than me.” 

“I was trying to make Kon, that really would not have happened,” Tim retorts dryly, and then wonders when exactly his dark humor got this dark. Well–logically, it would’ve been somewhere around all the dead people and all, he guesses, but still. 

“Really, because literally no one has described that dude to me as anything but, like, a socially-awkward marshmallow who was just constantly fronting whatever overbearing ‘please like me’ behavior he thought would work,” Hunter says, giving him a wry look. “Literally. Literally no one. I think the dog thinks he was a marshmallow, in fact.” 

“Right, and you’re so hardcore and edgy over there,” Tim says, eyeing him briefly. 

“I mean I’m capable of, like, things like saying ‘no’ to people who aren’t active supervillains actively trying to murder somebody not me,” Hunter replies reasonably. “So I’d like to think I’m at least, like, nougat or something. Maybe a caramel.” 

“You are not even Nutella, Hunter,” Tim says, and Hunter laughs again and then rolls back over and shifts up to straddle the weight bench, his thighs very . . . thighs about it. Tim tries not to be a weird little freak about said thighs, but in no way is he not a weird little freak about said thighs. 

Jesus, why are they so thighs. 

Hunter leans forward, bracing his hands on the end of the weight bench. Tim pretends to be oblivious to the existence of the other’s pecs and that big broad grin he’s back to wearing. It’s not like he’s not used to seeing totally different people wearing that face, between Kon and Match and literal Superman, and also like . . . Superboy Prime, fuck that guy forever, but Hunter still manages to look just a little bit more different than that, somehow. 

Tim literally does not even understand his own brain sometimes. Or at all, maybe. 

“I just keep thinking about doing the climbing, is all,” Hunter says. Tim forces his incomprehensible excuse for a brain back on track. “Like, the specific climbing of a specific somebody, mostly, but still a lot of climbing in general. And also how to convince said somebody to teach me how to have sex, like, in a way that is not the high school-level sex ed course somebody uploaded into my brain. Though like, that’s also a thing I keep thinking about.” 

“That doesn’t sound like you’re a slut, that sounds like you have a crush on someone,” Tim says, a little perplexed. “Or, uh, a psychosexual obsession with. But let’s hope for ‘crush’.” 

“Oh,” Hunter says, looking pretty perplexed himself. “Huh.” 

“The part where you’re perving on Nightwing, Red Hood, and Batman might be a little much, though,” Tim says dryly, mostly to move the conversation along before Hunter says anything that–

“Well, yeah,” Hunter replies with a shrug, leaning forward a little heavier on his hands. “”Cuz they’ve all got that same Bat-vibe somebody’s got.” 

“. . . what,” Tim says. 

“I really did not think I was being subtle here, dude,” Hunter says, raising an eyebrow at him. “Like, at any point.” 

“I literally made you,” Tim says, staring at him in disbelief. 

“Yeah, do you wanna maybe try some daddy kink and see how that goes?” Hunter asks, cocking his head with a thoughtful expression. “I feel like maybe we could do something with that.” 

“Asdfghjk,” Tim says, and falls off the floor again. 

“Like, no pressure, just asking,” Hunter says with another shrug. 

Okay, Tim thinks. Maybe Hunter’s right, and he did kind of make him kind of a slut, one way or the other. Like–maybe. Possibly. 

And maybe Hunter is also right about him having done this to himself, considering.

[hopefulidiocy]

yoo can i request a helaena x male reader where she is still married to aegon. she is appointed a queensguard and she falls in love with him as he’s truly the only one who accepts her for who she is and he reciprocates but he can’t act upon it due to his sworn oaths + she’s literally the princess / future queen. throw some angst + forbidden lovers trope + sunshine x grumpy in there as well!

thanks for reading （╹◡╹）♡

His Queen

Queen!Helaena x Queensguard!MaleOCReader :)

Warnings: offensive language, angst, fluff, poor grammar.

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE HOTD CHARACTERS

A/N some of the timeline is muddled up so please just bear with. I hope this is good enough!

~

Every day is the same Helaena dresses her children, she over watches their lessons and she embroiders clothing, blankets, just about anything for her family; but they do not admire it. She will always make elaborate stitchings and look after her insects because they take her away from the world she has been thrown into.

She does not need her family’s attention, she is happy all by herself in her chambers with her children as they play and laugh; those are the moments she cherishes more than seeing her mother and grandsire, in fact her entire family.

Her ladies followed her as she escorted her son to the library, his little ponytail swayed as he held onto her fingers with his innocent fist, all morning he had been talking her ear off and at first it was sweet but she became overwhelmed at all the information he was throwing at her. Being so young herself, she didn’t believe being a mother was her thing and this morning proved that. She swallowed the large lump in her throat as her husband, and brother, approached them with a smile; but the smile wasn’t towards her, it was never towards her and she was used to it by now.

“Jaehaerys!” He opened his arms and their son flew into them, he picked him up and twirled him around. “My heir!” He announced to his hand, who looked on with a grimace. Otto had always made Helaena uncomfortable, as did most of her family, even her mother wasn’t a source of comfort anymore. Just behind Aegon was Aemond, who walked with a spider like stealth; if you looked away from him, he would attack and it set everyone on edge. He never broke a smile as he watched his nephew laugh at his father making faces at him, all three of them were still children. Made to grow up quick.

“I’m taking him.” Aegon spoke to Helaena with no softness, no gentle tone or touch, just a statement and she was meant to accept it. She nodded, watching as they ran towards the Council Chamber together.

“Sister.” Aemond acknowledged and walked straight past her without a response. She cleared her throat, pressing down on her chest to stop the rising bile escaping and to stop her heart from burning.

~

Later on in the day, Helaena was sat by her window seat in her chambers, watching the world go by when Aegon stormed in with Ser Criston Cole. Cole wrinkled his nose at the caged insects that sat by her feet, he was lucky he didn’t see them scattering across her feet because that was usually her way of relaxing. But today she simply couldn’t. She turned her head, just to focus in on Aegon who was looking at her ladies in waiting; all of them uncomfortable and trying to busy themselves with anything that wasn’t his predatory glare.

“My Queen.” He laid on the affection thickly. She smiled falsely to let him continue. “I have a gift for you.”

“Where is Jaehaerys?” She asked calmly, scouting the entourage around her brother and not seeing her little boy.

“In his lessons.” He shrugged.

“He was meant to be finished by now.” She rested her back against the wooden panel, rolling her head back to the window.

“He started late.” He shrugged, his gaze turning back to her ladies. Helaena didn’t respond, instead watching Otto climb into his saddle and ride off into the distance.

“Ooookay.” He scoffed. “As i said, i have a gift for you.”

“You can leave it at the door, Aegon.” She responded quietly. A bustle of footsteps then came, a hand clasped her elbow and dragged to her feet, she stumbled slightly before standing straighter.

“Don’t be so ungrateful. I have a gift.” He spat through his teeth and all Helaena could do was smile. “Step forward, Ser Prito.” Helaena watched as a man she didn’t recognise walk towards her, his hair sandy and his jaw strong. Stronger than most of the men here, initially her breath was taken away but she swallowed her gasp down and looked into his dark, chestnut eyes as he bowed to the ground. She watched as he raised his head, his eyelashes long and curled, his hand reaching out for hers. Hesitantly, she gave him it and hitched her breath as he kissed it softly.

“Ser Prito Caesar, at your service, my Queen.” His voice was soothing, it was naturally at a lower point than any voice she had heard in the Red Keep.

“I have appointed you a Queens Guard.” Aegon slapped her on the back like he would one of his close pals. She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded as Prito rose to his full height, head and shoulders above everybody else. “I must get on, acquaint yourselves.” He left with his entourage and Ser Prito stood tall in front of the Queen. She ringed her hands, trembling as she didn’t know how to command him or what to do with him. So both of them just stood looking at each other.

“My Queen.” Lady Crystal approached her, her closest maid but even then she wouldn’t call her a friend. “Command him to stand outside your chambers, that’s what they do.” Helaena cleared her throat.

“Stand outside my rooms.” It came out more blunt than she meant too, but he grunted in acceptance and left to stand guard. She watched as he seemed to float out of the room, disappearing behind the door.

~

Two days later at night, Helaena held her children’s hands as she led them towards their nursery. Both of them were talking, more babbling, to each other and she simply turned off from it as her head began to swim with the metal-like footsteps behind her from Ser Prito. Dayna welcomed them into the nursery, Helaena kneeled down to strip her children’s clothing and into their nightgowns. As she was at their height, she noticed how alike they are to her and her heart knocked; whenever this happened she would feel this surge of love that she hoped to hold onto for the rest of her life. She caressed their faces, smiling very slightly as they watched her in silence.

“Goodnight, children.” She whispered, planting a soft kiss on their heads as Dayna tucked them into bed. She watched on as they settled in, their hands clasped in prayer.

Once she was outside the door, the cold air of the corridors was blowing and made her skin prickled; Ser Prito silently behind her as she gazed over the grey stone and the silence that filled her ears. She relished in this, letting her mind turn off and closing her eyes. She breathed in and out measurably.

“Helaena?” Alicent questioned softly, her heeled shoes stepping towards her. Helaena opened her eyes to see the concerned look on her mother’s face, she was always worried even though Helaena felt fine most days due to being used to these emotions. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, mother.” Alicent’s eyes drifted from her daughter to her Queens Guard. “Who is this?”

“My Guard.” She responded shortly, before moving away and towards her chambers, leaving her mother in the wake of her awkward small talk.

Lightning candles and incense, Helaena settled on the pillowed floor she made for herself and let her roaches scuttle over her fingers, she smiled as they roamed over her. Their black, sleek backs shining in the moonlight. She looked for their feed but couldn’t find it so she moved from her knees to her feet, her cockroaches still on her hands with the sudden movement of her body. Slowly, she opened her door to Ser Prito still outside her door. With the movement, he instantly turned, watching her intently.

“My Queen.” He bowed low again.

“Um, hello.” She said awkwardly, shuffling on her bare feet. “Could you fetch me some sweet meats?” She asked, leaning her head on the door she had open enough to see him. For a moment he looked perplexed.

“I am not meant to leave you, my Queen.” He said. “Could you ask one of your maids?” She shook her head.

“No, they are abed. I will come with you.” She shut the door and placed her cockroaches in their cages, slipping on her silk slippers and walking out of her chambers.

“My Queen, no one knows who could be lurking in the darkness. It might be dangerous for you.” He said carefully, his eyes on hers, making her breathing deeper and perhaps a small blush rising.

“We will be quick.” She shrugged and started walking in front of him towards the kitchens of the Red Keep, usually someone was always awake down there.

“My Queen, aren’t you cold?” He asked, keeping up with her.

“No.” She responded shortly and opened the doors to the kitchens, all the maids stood instantly for her and she had always hated it because she felt lower than them. She requested for sweet meats and was brought a plate of honey covered beef, a curtsey and a muttered goodnight.

“Goodnight, Ser Prito.” She didn’t look at him and hastily walked back to her chambers.

~

In the morning, Helaena was strolling through the courtyard with her children, they were running in front and playing with each other as her mind wandered towards the weather and how it’s slightly changing.

“Fire is coming.” She whispered, playing with her pendant at her neck.

“My Queen?” Ser Prito thought she was speaking to him, he craned his neck forward to hear her properly.

“Fire is coming.” She repeated, her chest tightening.

“There is no fire, My Queen.” He didn’t understand. No one did. So she kept quiet as the fire rose in her head.

Aegon entered her chambers later that afternoon to spend time with his children, mainly his son, as she stitched a fire in a wood into her blanket she was making for her window seat. She watched as the oranges and yellows brushed against her hand, creating another image of a dragon in her head, forging a new path of darkness that was all too familiar.

“Ser Prito!” Aegon shouted, the door opened and the handsome guard appeared, bowing low. “Has my wife shown you her collection?” He was mocking her, Helaena tried to hide her humiliation in her embroidery.

“No, Your Majesty.” Aegon laughed and clapped his hands.

“Come, let me show you.” He stood and stormed over to the cages with a confidence stride, he was set on humiliating her. Aegon opened the cages, bending at the hips to properly look at them, he laughed at the spiders who were hiding in the corner, probably asleep but he took it as them hiding from him so he laughed hard. Helaena’s skin prickled as Prito joined him, bending at the hips also.

“What are these?” He asked.

“An insect collection.” Aegon laughed. “Isn’t that right, My Queen? Your insects tell you things.” He mocked and Helaena couldn’t find it within herself to speak or look at him so continued on. “Respond to your King! These insects tell you things, correct?” He shouted, slamming on the table and instinctively she covered her ears.

“Yes.” She whispered, her voice trembling and he laughed manically.

“The Queen is a mystery to us all!” He announced, laughing. “Why won’t the insects talk to me?” He mocked.

“I think it is nice. A pet companion for a human is important except in Her Majesty’s case her companionship is with insects.” Ser Prito said, confidently. Then, Helaena looked up and slowly turned her head towards him, he was watching her with a smile and a muscle twitched in her cheek; she felt some warmth envelope her skin before looking down at her embroidery again.

~

A ball was Helaena’s worst nightmare, all those people dancing and having a good time getting drunk was overwhelming. Watching her husband flirt with women in front of her and making her look a fool was also something of a discomfort despite not having any romantic inclinations for him at all. She sat on a chair next to the Iron Throne, significantly smaller than her husband’s and watched with an elegant stillness as Aegon drank cups after cups of beer. Aemond was stalking the outskirts of the hall, his hands daintily on his sword as he scanned the women around who flew flirtatious looks at him. He always looked away in disgust and never gave anyone a second glance. Helaena turned up her nose at the wine being offered to her by her mother.

“Helaena, have some fun. You deserve it.” She pleaded, placing the glass of wine on her side table.

“I can’t.” She responded quietly, gripping the edges of her seat.

“Why not?” Alicent slumped in her body.

“Because of the fire.” She said, as if it was obvious.

“You must stop this behaviour. There is no fire, the Keep is heavily guarded. You need to get out of your head, daughter.” She tapped the side of Helaena’s temple, she swatted her away.

“Leave me alone.” Alicent stepped back and sighed, watching her daughter with perplexity and stormed off into the crowd. Helaena looked down at the wine glass, watching the red liquid slosh from side to side as the beat of feet made the floor shake; Aegon stalked towards a pretty lady and began dancing with her, Helaena shuffled uncomfortably on her throne.

“You can have it, Ser Prito.” She offered him the glass.

“I mustn’t, My Queen. I cannot drink on the job.” He responded, giving her a slight smile. Helaena nodded and set the glass back on her table.

“You are very good, aren’t you?” She questioned quietly. He couldn’t hear her so stood a little closer, bending down so her mouth was at his ear. “You’re very good at this job.” He laughed.

“I do try, My Queen.” He smiled and continued standing still behind her.

Helaena sighed into her plush throne as she watched the merriment in front of her, she was a complete stranger to the court unless she was beside her husband. She didn’t mind usually but he was definitely hard to see everyone have fun without her, her stomach started growling but if she wanted food; she would have to walk to the food table at the end of the hall.

“I want to go.” She stood up, patting her skirts and walking to through the back door so no one sees her leave, Ser Prito close behind as always.

“Sleep well, My Queen.” He said, taking position outside her door. She smiled and entered her chambers, taking her skirts off almost instantly. She could breathe finally once her corset was off and she felt comforted at the sight of her insects, she let out the spiders and had them running over her hands. Getting close and watching them, her stomach churned even further than earlier and she noticed the hunger that was rippling through her body.

Outside the door, Ser Prito was resting his eyes at the sound of the distant music and laughter. Balls weren’t really his scene either, after what happened at his sister’s birthday ball - dubbed the Dark Birthday - he swore to never have fun at them again. His eyes snapped open when his Queen opened the door, her innocent blue eyes peering up at him as she surveyed him.

“Are you hungry, Ser Prito?” She asked.

“A little, My Queen.” He replied. She nodded and started walking hastily towards the kitchens where they had been before. He watched as she floated throughout the hallways with the grace of a dove. In the Stormlands, word of Helaena being weird and mentally unstable made people wonder whether she was fit for the throne beside the king. In Prito’s opinion, she was a bit odd but he would describe it as eccentric and interesting; he enjoyed her interests and the way she spoke a bit awkwardly and struggled with nerves, just as any small folk.

He watched as Helaena’s soft importance to the kitchen staff made them look at her differently to how they look at other royals, they didn’t look at her with pity but with pride and respect. Helaena earned her respect by the servants instead of demanding it like the King and Prince Aemond. She was given a basket of fruit, meat and some desserts and it bounced on his hips as she speedily made her way back to her chambers.

“Come in, Ser Prito. We can eat together.” She said, holding the door open for him.

“I’m not sure if that’s wise, my Queen.” He said, even though his mouth was salivating at the food.

“I’m the Queen and i want you to eat supper with me.” She beckoned him in with her hand and he entered behind her. “I hope you don’t mind insects.” He shook his head for no.

Together they sat on the floor, surrounded by cushions and blankets, picking at a bowl of berries. Helaena nipped at a strawberry as she watched with interest at her Guard who carefully picked out the best looking strawberry.

“Where are you from?” She asked, swallowing the strawberry.

“The Stormlands, My Queen.” He responded, leaning back on his hands.

“Please don’t call me that. In private Helaena is just fine. I hate being called Queen.” She blushed, reaching for a slice of chicken. “I was happier before I was Queen.” She commented. Prito felt a knock in the heart at that.

“How come?” He questioned, cocking his head. Helaena looked at him, noticing soft beige freckles that scattered over his nose and his bottom lip fuller than the top. She noticed he wrinkled his nose whilst waiting for her to answer.

“Because I was able to live how I liked. My chambers were full of my insects, they lived free but now they are caged. Like me.” She looked over at the cages, sighing and leaning back like Prito.

“You are Queen. Free to do whatever.” He shrugged, looking at her kind face.

“No, I am not. That is a misconception.” She said sternly, swallowing her chicken slice. “I wish for the days my sister Rhaenyra was still here. Peaceful times with her around.” She looked off into the distance, her mind going back to her sister.

“I’m sorry to hear you feel trapped, Helaena.” Her name slipped off his tongue like sugar, so sweet and gentle and when it came to her ears. She breathed in its gentle aroma and sighed, smiling.

“With you around, I feel slightly more grounded. It’s nice to have someone on my side, even if you aren’t. I’m sure you think I’m mad, most of the realm does.” She sighed, shaking her hands on her nightgown.

“I don’t think you’re mad.” He said sternly. “You are not mad, if people don’t understand you then that’s their issue, isn’t it?” He smiled, hoping to get one out of her and he did. She smiled somewhat widely.

“I appreciate that, Ser Prito. Thank you.” She blushed and looked away.

“Can I ask about your insects?” He asked, nodding his chin towards them.

“Yes.” Her eyes were wide. No one had asked this before. No one cared.

“Why do you have them?”

“They don’t judge me. I look after them, I feed them and let them roam around. They do talk to me, they tell me how they feel and what might happen in the future.” She said, seeming to go into a daze.

“Which ones are your favourite?”

“That’s like asking my favourite child.” She laughed. “I do like the cockroaches. They just relax there. They don’t attack like the spiders.” She giggled and then looked at him under her blonde eyelashes, suddenly shy. “Do you want to see them?” She was testing the waters and she would definitely understand if he said no and wanted to have distance between them. But to her surprise he said yes and was instantly on his feet, ready to see them. She smiled, ready to get onto her feet when his open palm came out in front of her for her to take to stand with his help. When her fingers met his palm, he clasped them, not hard but enough for there to be some pressure. They kept their eyes on each other as she rose from her position, his hand still around hers when she was standing, both of them simply gazing at each other; exploring each other with their eyes. His brown eyes, so warm and full of curiosity compared to her ice blue eyes, so worrisome but bright at the same time. It was such a contrast. It was beautiful. She sucked in the air and removed her hand, beckoning him over to her cages. He bent as he watched the insects inspect each other or sleep, resting whilst two large humans look into their lives.

“It’s fascinating.” He whispered.

“Is it really?” She asked, her hands clasped together.

“Yes. I’ve never seen anyone as interested in insects as you. It’s admirable.” He stood up straight to face her and both of them went back to gazing at each other, Helaena’s chest started moving up and down faster as her heart perked towards her ribcage. Instinctively, they stepped towards each other. A breeze brought a piece of her hair in her eyes, she didn’t seem to notice it though and Prito reached, gently placing the hair behind her ear. This knocked Helaena out of her trance, stepping back with an awkward cough.

“I’m getting tired, I should probably sleep.” She said, not looking at him. He bowed low and exited, sweat pouring from his hairline at how close he got to breaking his oath.

~

After a near kiss, Helaena sat up in her bed the next morning pondering over what had happened last night; confusion was unsettling and it made her think hard about why it had even happened in the first place. If anyone was to find out, not that there’s anything to find out, he would be executed for breaking the oath he swore to the crown. She could even be punished for it.

She must be ready for taking her son to his lessons, she was dressed by her maids, her hair wrapped up in a veil and a dainty tiara placed on top of her head — Jaehaerys took his mothers hand and they walked, with the prickling sensation of her guard behind her. Jaehaerys sauntered off with his tutor, babbling to her and uncaring about his mother. She turned to Prito and breathed in deeply.

“Thank you for coming last night. For spending time with me. Not many people do that anymore.” She smiled meekly.

“My pleasure, My Queen.” He sent her a gentle wink, understanding to call her by title in public and she blushed, turning away from him.

Later that night, she stalked the length of her chambers wondering why she felt her heart pick up speed whenever she saw her guard and it wasn’t a way to live with being so nervous around him when she sees him all the time. Prito was thinking the same thing and wondering what would happen right now if he just walked into her chambers, what would she do? If he chanced it, he could put his place in jeopardy. Just as he was thinking about this, the door opened to reveal Helaena. Her innocent, doe-like eyes looked up at him and then she left, leaving the door open for him to walk inside. So he did.

“Last night-“

“I know, Helaena. I’ve been thinking about it too.” He said, breathing deeply. She nodded, looking away and trying to calm her hasty breathing. He stepped forward, taking her cheek in his thumb and index finger. “I can’t break my oath, Helaena.”

“I know.” She whispered, looking at his lips and then up to his eyes. A spark ignited between the two of them, a bolt of lightning from the space in their feet and shooting straight up to the ceiling. He caressed her chin with his thumb, looking at her lips and wishing to kiss them. But he couldn’t. It would be too difficult.

“I want you to be happy. With your insects. Your children.” Not your husband. Helaena closed her eyes, sighing into him and then stepping on her tiptoes.

“Just once, Prito. It doesn’t have to be more than that.” She admitted then that she wanted it too. Prito looked to her lips, slightly pursed and wanting; skipping his eyes back to hers, he sighed into the tension into the room, finding some kind of comfort in it. Helaena ached to lean forward, just to find his lips for a mere second; that’s all she wanted. He kept still though, he wouldn’t give into it, not yet and he couldn’t.

“I can’t.” He said at last, letting go of her and stepping back; his heart aching to go back into that position with her but an oath was made the moment he entered the Keep. She nodded, thinning her lips and smacking them together as she looked towards the window where the moon was rising high, knowing her husband was in bed with another woman and her mother with her own Guard. She waited to hear the door close with Prito gone and she threw herself on the bed, thinking about what could’ve happened that night.

~

Helaena curled her legs up to her chest, her back pressed hard against the wooden panel on her window seat; her children playing with their toys by her, finding solis in their mothers’ silence. She was meant to be seeing something but couldn’t find the concentration so opted for watching outside the window. She watched as Aegon and Otto pulled themselves up onto their saddles, chatting animatedly about something unknown to her and there was some kind of ache as she was left out once again from everything. Maybe if she could stop being so weird, so odd, people would accept her and would approach her; maybe if she was a better mother, people would tell her how proud she must be, people would tell her how much her children look like her. If she could be different, maybe her Guard would be more comfortable around her and to kiss her and to hold her; something she longed for her entire life… for someone just to see her. But it didn’t happen and it likely wouldn’t.

“Helaena.” Aemond’s gravelly voice came from the doorway. She looked over to see her brother standing as still as can be in the doorway, she kicked her feet onto the floor and walked towards him.

“Brother.” She said, clasping her hands at her stomach.

“Leave us.” He commanded everyone in the room. The servants halted, waiting for approval from the Queen. “Now.” He ordered even harder, Helaena gave a quick nod and they gathered their things to leave. Prito narrowed his eyes when the servants came billowing out with the two children in tow. They waited outside with him, quiet and silent as the doors were shut on Aemond and Helaena.

“What is it, brother?” She asked, her voice quiet because she had some kind of idea.

“The Pretender is forging an army against us, as you are aware.” His eye watched her carefully, she didn’t know that. “I need you to be ready with Dreamfyre. Remind her of her duties and ride her into battle when it is time.” Helaena’s breath hitched, she brought her hand to her sternum and began rubbing it gently, her heart pattering against her ribcage.

“No.” She said, her breathing becoming laboured. “I don’t want to.”

“It doesn’t matter if you want to or not. You have to, to protect your people.” Aemond was becoming impatient, he began shuffling on his feet when Helaena had to look away from him to try calm her breathing.

“I don’t want to, Aemond. You won’t force me.” She couldn’t face him. Aemond scoffed, grabbing her wrist harshly and instinctively she tried to pull away, something cracking there and making her whine as he attempted to pull her towards the door. “Let go of me, Aemond.” She managed to squeeze out, braking her heels into the ground to stop herself from moving.

“You need to do this. You know you have to. It is your duty!” He turned away from her to open the door but she pulled away hard enough for him to stumble back.

“My duty has already been completed. I have provided an Heir! Let me go!” His hand gripped harder, making her veins close in and the blood stopped flowing to her fingers, she whined again and attempted to twist out of his grip but they were already halfway out of the room. Aemond ignored the servants watching on with wide eyes. “Aemond! Let me go!” She pulled him back, he stumbled over his feet before smacking her arm harshly.

“Let go of the Queen.” Prito came in a flash once he understood what was happening, his hand gripped on Aemond strongly, his eyes fierce. Aemond laughed in his face, rolling his eye and continued to pull her. Helaena began to cry, tears streaming down her face with pure humiliation and anxiety. This was happening in front of her personal maids. “You are manhandling the Queen!” He shouted, readying his sword with his free hand as his other was occupied with stopping Aemond from pulling his Queen any further.

“Are you fucking her?” Aemond teased, flashing his teeth. Helaena watched as Prito’s grip tightened, his fingers sticking into the large vein in Aemond’s wrist leaving his letting go with a hiss. Once Aemond had let go, Prito stepped between them with his sword almost drawn.

“Must I remind you, you manhandled your Gentle Queen.” He shouted. Helaena’s breathing became hard and laboured, gripping the pendant at her neck, trying to gulp for some air but not finding anything.

“She is my sister.”

“She is your Queen.” Prito responded quickly, shooting it back at him before Aemond scoffed.

“I don’t fucking care. You must know out of everyone that the Seven Kingdoms is under threat by The Pretender.” He said, almost spitting it out. Helaena lungs began to spasm, the breathing harder to get in and to get out.

“She is your Queen!” Prito bellowed. “You respect, Our Queen! I don’t care who you are and I’m sure the King would agree.” He drew his sword then, ready for a fight. Ready to fight for his Queen. Aemond laughed, backed away and turned; taking the loss. Seeing the back of him, Helaena buckled to the ground, her lungs no longer filling up with any air, nothing was entering her and she started to panic. She leaned forward, her palms flat on the ground, trying to grip and find something to be able to breathe but she couldn’t find it. Tears streamed in fat blobs as her servants looked onto the scene without knowing what to do or how to comfort their Queen.

Prito’s skin was on fire as he watched the slimy Prince disappear, he turned to find Helaena on the floor, hyperventilating. He kneeled down instantly, reaching for her elbows, trying to ground her himself because she wasn’t making it work. His blood was boiling, he couldn’t hear anything apart from his own rush and her sobs as she begged for oxygen.

“Leave the Queen.” He ordered, scooping her up in his arms. Her legs draped over his arms and her arms loosely hooked around his neck, her head tucked into her chest as she gagged on her own sobs. “Leave the Queen!” He bellowed, moving into her chambers and closing the door behind them. Quickly, he brought her to the bed. Settling her there, kneeling beside and holding her hands against his chest, for her to feel his own heartbeat. She sobbed, wept, as he held his hands there; he watched on, helplessly, but trying all the same. “Come back, Helaena.” His voice was like honey, sticking to her mind and bringing her breathing to a controlled pace. She sniffed and finally, her lungs expanded. He tucked her hair behind her ears as she let go of him, his heart beating hard against his chest as he kept his hands on her cheeks; caressing them softly with his thumbs.

“You’re safe with me.” He whispered, bringing her forehead to his lips and breaking that oath by pressing them onto her, beaded with sweat she relaxed into his embrace. They stayed in that position for a moment, enjoying the electricity and warmth mixture; Helaena was the first to pull away and finally look at him. She was a mess, her cheeks red and tear marked as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“I’m safe with you.” She repeated, whispering. He nodded, taking her hands in his and kissing her delicate fingers.

“You are safe with me.” They gazed at each other but this time was charged with a different energy than before, both of them simultaneously leaned forward, their lips ready and quivering as they met in the middle. They relaxed into each other, Helaena’s arms draping over his shoulders as she pushed into the kiss and he pulled her closer with his strong arms at her waist, bringing her closer than he had before; both of them becoming one as they felt their hearts fall into the same pace. She sighed into him and he brought her to a different world with one simple kiss, she felt the stresses of being Queen melt away as she leaned her entire body weight onto him and she knew he could handle it. The kiss was magic, it was power and it was beautiful. He broke every oath he made for the woman who would forever be his Queen, no matter what. But right now it didn’t matter, all she was, was his Helaena. The only one other than family to call her by name not by title and he would cherish that for the rest of his life.

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let’s talk about the beginning of the end and what the last few episodes might mean for the next chapter of Stolitz

Well hello, my lovely peoples! I feel like I haven’t written a Fizziepop Take in a good minute, and I know I'm putting my two cents in a lil late, but I am back and so ready to talk about everything that we’ve seen in the last few episodes because it has been wild…. So, you know the drill, let’s get into it.

So, if we wanna talk about the beginning of the end, we need to be honest with ourselves; the real beginning of the end of one of the fandom’s most beloved ships started back with the incident at Ozzie’s. If you've followed my takes for a while, you know I talk about this night a lot, but that is because this was a real turning point for the couple; the relationship has been strained ever since Blitz felt what he felt that night when Stolas pulled away from him in public when all eyes were on them. Ever since that exact moment, Blitz felt like he was being used and taken advantage of, and despite things going back to a kind of normal for them, those feelings just ended up festering and since our loveable little horse-loving imp doesn’t have a lot of healthy ways to process things and has already had it imbedded in his brain that he ain’t shit, I don’t think he ever fully processed what that night meant from any other angle than “he’s embarrassed to be seen with me”. What does this have to do with how things ended? I’m so glad you’ve asked! Since Blitz never fully processed the events of that night and therefore was only ever able to see it as a royal being embarrassed to be seen on a date with a lowly imp, Blitz didn’t get to see the sweeter side of being gifted an Asmodean Crystal by Stolas in “The Full Moon”. To Blitz, the crystal was more of a “you’re being let go” type of thing because Stolas essentially terminated their contract and since they had never talked about their relationship being anything but contractual, Blitz had no reason to believe that this was really anything but Stolas telling him that he was no longer needed by him.

Now, we as the audience know what the real intention behind the crystal was, and I think Stolas put it beautifully when he tried to explain it to Blitz when he gifted him the crystal….. but I don’t think that words really do much for Blitz in most instances, let alone in the long term. Blitz is more of an “actions speak louder than words” type of imp, but here’s the thing about that: for this saying to be true, actions must be consistent. Because, yes, actions do speak louder than words, but if that action is only done here and there, it doesn’t always show what it should. In terms of the end of Stolitz as we know it, Stolas isn’t the only one who’s actions matter, and unfortunately, I’m not talking about just Blitz’s actions. Being that Blitz has been abused (probably way more than we’ve even seen), those actions matter. Abuse of any sort does a lot more damage to the victim than we sometimes realize, and because of that, it can do a lot of damage in how a person looks at things like relationships and love…. And given the transactional nature of their relationship, and the fact that Stolas hadn’t consistently been a genuine partner to Blitz outside of the bedroom, his reaction to the crystal honestly makes a lot of sense. First, he treats it like an elaborate role play, because sex is the only love language he’s consistently known in their relationship, then when he realizes that it’s a serious conversation, he’s pissed rather than grateful…. Is his anger perhaps a little misplaced? Probably, but the feelings are all real. Blitz does feel used and discarded by Stolas, something he’s obviously felt before since we see in his bad trip in "Truth Seekers" that he feels very much chained to the prince by the design of their relationship, and the fact that Stolas doesn't give him much time to really sit with what’s just happened between them after handing him an out of their relationship doesn’t help…. And then we see the panic when Blitz realizes that unlike what he’s used to, Stolas isn’t going to match his anger, he’s just going to remove himself from the situation and let that be the end of it….

This brings us to the events of “Apology Tour”. I actually really loved this episode despite the fact that my favorite couple literally just called it quits the episode before. We see the aftermath of what happened the night of the full moon, and we see the way both men start to grieve the relationship they had in their own ways, which I would argue is the true end of the relationship since this is where we see both men really accepting that they are no longer a thing the way they were before. We see Stolas taking all his eggs out of the Blitz basket and actually letting himself be happy with someone else, even if that happy is only gonna be for the night… And we see Blitz realizing that he not only truly loved Stolas more than he had wanted to admit, but we see him start trying to let go of what he had with the man despite the point of the episode being that he hadn’t really been ready to in the beginning…. Unfortunately, Blitz letting go leads to his spiral which we see in “Ghostfuckers”, and we see him get himself into a rough spot with his little found family; working Loona into exhaustion burning owl figurines as a form of therapy, not paying M&M while also fucking away all of I.M.P’s money, and using the job they get in this episode as a chance to just roleplay as someone who wasn’t him and therefore wasn’t going through what he was…Really, Blitz did go into a deep, rather dark place, and I suspect that he might be there for a while when it comes to love, which leads us to the big question….

What does this all mean for the fan favorite ship? Will Stolitz really be endgame if we just watched them break up the way they did? 

If you ask me, a humble Tumbr blogger who probably cares way too much about fictional demons, I honestly don’t think this hiatus will really affect the ship too negatively. The time apart may be just what Stolas and Blitz need. Both of these men have trauma they need to start working through individually, and while having a support system can be a helluva help when you’re reopening old wounds to try to get them to heal properly (hehe, see what i did there?), I don’t think either of them is really in a place emotionally to be the best support they can be for the other while they both individually try to do that. Stolas also needs time to learn who he is as a person considering he went from being a baby prince to being engaged, then straight from being engaged to being married, then married with a kid, and directly after that, he jumped into bed with Blitz and just proceeded to place everything he had in that "relationship"… He never really considered anything outside of loveless marriage with an abusive cunt or amazing sex and *hopefully* love with an old childhood “friend”. I think he needs some time to be alone and live just for himself as much as he can as a Goetia, and I don’t think he could have done that with Blitz right now, at least not fully. Vivzie is a smart woman, and she does a lot of things in her shows very intentionally, so I do think that she is setting the pair up for a happier, healthier relationship down the line and I think once they come together again and have more experiences apart from each other, we’re probably gonna get a sort of happy ending for the pair, or at least the start of a new beginning for them.

I’d love to hear what everyone else thinks, because as you all know, this is just a simple Fizziepop Take and anything can happen in the Helluverse, but my take definitely makes me excited for the next episode because I for one cannot wait to see what Vivzie has in store for us next.

[bloodweavefangnatic]

Wyll’s remarks about Astarion, such as his comment about Astarion having nice hair, come off as more platonic or neutral. While Wyll might acknowledge Astarion’s attractiveness, something the vampire doesn’t already know 😂, there’s no indication that these comments carry the same kind of sexual tension or romantic interest that Astarion expresses toward Wyll. These remarks are more likely to be seen as lighthearted compliments, something that could be said by a friend or acquaintance rather than an indication of deeper romantic feelings.

Astarion, on the other hand, makes several flirtatious comments toward Wyll, hinting at a potential romantic or sexual attraction. He openly mentions that Wyll would have been his type before he became a vampire, — which is kind of sad because I think Wyll would have loved him more as a human than a vampire and I feel like that’s a little racist because canonically (not talking about playing Wyll’s origin run, if you want to romance Astarion go for your life) but I don’t think he’d want to do anything with him because of what his kind does and the fact that he’s a monster hunter but then again this is just my theory/HC I don’t know it for a fact but I know the attraction is definitely one-side either way it’s looked at — and there are moments where Astarion expresses clear desire or admiration for Wyll’s physical appearance. This interaction is much more overt and can be interpreted as a romantic or sexual interest. (Like the question is does he just want to bed Wyll as one night stand or does he genuinely have deep-rooted feelings for him?)

Even if Wyll did harbor feelings for Astarion, it raises the question: why was he so consistently harsh toward him throughout Acts 1 and 2? Wyll’s behavior towards him only starts to shift in Act 3, after Astarion kills Cazador and chooses to remain a spawn (which is actually understandable even because I don’t exactly like Ascended Astarion either, so kudos to Wyll 😂) However, this shift doesn’t come across as a true companionship or genuine change of heart—it feels more like a reward or acknowledgment of Astarion’s “good behavior.” (Pretty much similar as to how Mizora treats Wyll with the ‘reward method’ like a dog)

By waiting until after Astarion has undergone intense personal growth to offer any kind of warmth — which is kind of manipulative on the warlock’s part — Wyll’s change in attitude feels less like a romantic development and more like belated approval.

This shift misses the mark if the intent was to create a compelling connection between them. Instead of building a relationship over time, it feels as if Wyll’s attitude change only emerges in response to Astarion’s actions, which doesn’t have the depth or complexity expected in a confession of feelings.

Self note: Don’t get me started on the whole “well it could be an enemies to lovers thing”. Yeah, you could be right but that’s what happened between Lae’zel & Shadowheart as well as Karlach & Wyll but at least they made a truce in Act 1

Wyll repeatedly “teases” (I wouldn’t even call it that considering his tone is not animated ) Astarion about his “dietary life” even though he explicitly explains to the player/leader of the group — very early on after being found out about his true nature — “I hunt deer, boar, or kobolds whatever I can get. I’m just a little slow right now” which, now that I think about it, I honestly I feel like that’s the only part Wyll heard: ‘I’m a little slow’ it would explain why he acts this way towards Astarion either that or he’s internally panicking (not for himself) but people around him because there is a “slow” vampire who hasn’t fed yet, but is too weak to go after any animal. Thats not the worst part, Wyll, who is only a short distance from Astarion’s tent — one tent away — perhaps chose to ignored his explanation, most likely not wanting to hear to excuses or manipulation (in Wyll’s eyes) because to him a bloodthirsty vampire is a bloodthirsty vampire; self control or not it didn’t matter to him

Another thing is when Astarion mentions that he’s feeling hungry, a day or so later, Wyll instantly remarks that he should settle for “vagrant chicken,” straight off the bat and absolutely no tactfulness, as if unaware or indifferent to Astarion’s efforts to avoid feeding on innocents. This could have been especially harsh for Astarion — considering how much he resents being told what to do— a reminder of his time under Cazador’s control, particularly when he had no choice having to obey his commands (lest he gets punished for not doing so 🥺)

The dynamic becomes even more complicated when the player (save for playing as Karlach) goes up to Astarion, telling him: “You can feed on me.”. Every time it comes up, Wyll doesn’t protest or intervene, despite his earlier jabs about the vampire’s source of ‘food’. There’s no protective or disapproving response from him; instead, he stands by and allows it to happen. This feels less like a typical “enemies-to-lovers” banter and more like an ongoing pattern of unnecessary antagonism. It, to me, actually felt more like a “the ruler can do whatever they want and the person won’t interfere” thing, which isn’t far fetched to being a leader of the companions

Conclusion:

It’s important to note that Baldur’s Gate 3 is a game driven by player choice, meaning there is no definitive “canon” relationship between characters. Since each player can make different decisions and pursue different companions, any pairing, such as “Wyllstarion,” is subjective and depends on the individual player’s choices. The game doesn’t establish any specific romantic relationships as official canon, as characters do not form relationships with one another outside of the player’s actions. This flexibility allows players to experience a variety of possible relationships, and no particular outcome is considered the game’s “canon.”.

That’s like me saying “Starlach and Bloodweave are definitely canon,” but someone else might argue, “No way, it’s all about Shadowarrior — Shadowheart and Lae’zel” or “Fieryblade, Wyll x Karlach, is definitely the better option” etc. Everyone has their own interpretation of what feels right or “canon” to them. There’s no one-size-fits-all answer because the game lets you build your own story, and what feels like a natural pairing for one person might not for someone else.

More evidence that Wyll and Astarion are basically canon :p But no Wyll, no Asty kisses for you >:c Not this time.

[rabvan]

spymaster, becoming the doctor, and gardening – a little character study

anyone else obsessed with the master and margarita short story?? no?? just me?? oh well you’re getting a character analysis anyway, long rant about spymasters obsession with the doctor via mushrooms under the cut :3

tw for dissociation and substance induced hallucinations (weird ahh mushrooms as torture)

for those of you who haven’t read the master and margarita (i def recommend its super fun) it’s about what dhawan!master was doing during his 77 years on earth in that time skip during spyfall 2. he’s a mushroom farmer in russia, crazy hijinks and thoschei references ensue. maybe i’m going too deep into it but i really love the idea of him as a gardener and what that implies for everything we see in ttc/potd

i’d like to start with the fact that out of all the masters, dhawans is the one least confident in his identity. classic who masters and saxon held their title with pride with their “he’s the master and you will obey him” shtick. missy, even when she was debating her morality, never saw herself as anything other than missy. her title wasn’t being questioned, it was what she chose to do with it. meanwhile, spymaster just... loses himself after looking into the panopticon. he’s faced with the reality that the doctor is more important than he could ever be, and given that he sees his worth as interwoven with hers (the history between us, constantly refers back to their past/when they were equal), this makes him lose all sense of self. it used to be theta and koschei. the doctor and the master. now it’s just the timeless child and….. that’s it. there’s no significant place for him in her life. what’s he supposed to do now, when he’s based his whole history around her?

easy! fracture himself into different personalities, hide behind disguises (i mean, THREE disguises in one episode? calm down dude) in an attempt to hide his unimportance. while the timeless child is the story of child abuse and colonialism, a hurt the doctor will have to live with even if she can’t remember it, the master sees it as a triumph. he is lesser. she is the timeless child and she has existed forever and he is some dumb timelord who fell in love and meant nothing to her in the long-run. he feels like he’s not deserving of being in his own skin anymore so he hides behind whatever name and personality he can find.

but the thing about all his disguises is that they are so human. agent o, a shy little analyst at MI6 with the wide eyed stare and wits to be the doctor’s companion. rasputin, famous bachelor and a piece of history the doctor would notice. he says he despises humans but he dresses up as them because well, do you know who does love them? the doctor :(

which is why his name and intentions in the master and margarita are soooo so interesting to me. first off, his human alias is mikhail (“son of god”, writer of the og master and margarita) afanasyevich (“immortal”, also the og writer of master and margarita) gospodinov (roughly translated to “lord” and “master”). he steals a name, just like rasputin in potd, with a lot of weight on who he is right now. an emphasis on “immortal” “time lord” when hes dealing with the pressure of ttc. hes basically copying the doctor and making a title for himself like the ‘timeless child’ to feel equal again. it’s not the only time he copies the doctor either, hes basically working for “evil russian unit” in this short story. 

(remind you of anything?? yes im talking about the doctor-master. super cool foreshadowing on how hes been trying to become/be one with the doctor before potd)

and it’s literally in the text. the whole reason he spends months cultivating mushrooms for russia is to change history a bit so that jo grant’s marriage will be ruined. such a Doctor thing to do, kind of parallels clara and danny. to love a human is to be overly dramatic over them. the master, again, uses humans for his own benefit but has never been overly fond of them, with the exception of the doctors little companions. hes copying her again.

but the thing is, he keeps cultivating them. he gains a love for caring for them. mushrooms are just mushrooms until they arent. in a time where he thinks he’s the doctors opposite, he begins farming mushrooms bc of jo grant, a detail the doctor would remember just bc he misses her. he couldve spent his time escaping and getting back to his regular timeline to defeat the doctor, but he stayed. because of a human attachment. very doctor-y.

and if that bit of nostalgia wasn’t enough, he even hallucinates the third doctor in this. Which. okay. give me a non-thoschei explanation for this.

i just really like what that short story has to offer as far as the masters obsession with other people and his disguises go. and what it means for him to spend months of his live caring for something, like the doctor would, when all hes done before is kill. what does it mean for the champion of death to cultivate life :(

nyways, if you made it this far, i really hope you enjoyed !! i just love talking about spymaster can you tell lmfaooo and if you liked any of this id recommend reading the gardener by ritheh on ao3 which expands on his whole “killer heals for once” thing its soooo good <33 ok bye see u guys next time