#its been a bit since I posted one of these

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! I had surgery a few weeks ago and I’m definitely hitting a wall mentally. I’ve been so sad with recovery and I’m so exhausted and cranky (unfortunately). I was wondering if you could write an emt!marauders or poly!marauders w reader going through that?? Thank you! Your writing has been a huge comfort for me during this time 🩷

Hi lovely! I realize it's been a while since you sent this so I hope you're feeling much much better now! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: post-op recovery, shoulder injury

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 727 words

James enters the bedroom to witness three stages of wakefulness. There’s Remus where he left him, fluffy haired and squinty eyed scrolling through his phone. One of Remus’ hands is toying idly with the ends of Sirius’ hair, who’s still dead asleep next to him, on his stomach with his face pushing into the pillow (James has never been able to figure out how he can breathe like that). Then there’s you, just sitting up with a groan and a sour look on your face. His angel. 

“Here, love.” James sets the coffee he’d brought for Remus on the nightstand, making sure the handle is facing him. Remus’ thanks is croaky with drowsiness, his smile gentle. James says to you, “Morning. How’d you sleep?” 

“Hard,” you mumble. You shrug your one shoulder experimentally, and grimace. “Too hard.” 

Remus makes a sympathetic sound, looking at you over the rim of his mug. “Did you sleep on it wrong?” 

“No.” You sound a tad defensive. “I was on my back all night.” 

Remus hums. “This is what happens when you don’t do your stretches at night, dovey.” 

You scowl. James ruffles Remus’ hair. “Be nice,” he chides. “You could do some stretching now, angel.” 

Sirius makes a disgruntled sleepy sound, rolling onto his side to wrap his arms around your waist. He settles his head contentedly on the plushness of your thigh. “Everyone shut up,” he grumbles. “And stop getting up.” 

“We’re not getting up,” James placates him. “She’s only doing her stretches.” 

“But it hurts,” you whine. 

“That’s why you do your stretches, sweetheart.” Remus gives you a look. 

James can feel you getting irritated. You’ve been recovering from your surgery for weeks now, and you’re growing exhausted not only with all the things you can’t do with your shoulder but also all the things you have to do to build back its strength and mobility. He goes to the dresser as you slump forward into your own lap, hapless. 

“Come on,” he laughs, tossing you your towel. “You can start with the towel one first. That one’s fit.” 

You look up at James. “It is not.” 

“Y’always look good, babe,” Sirius mumbles into your thigh. 

“See? And extra good when you stretch your arms like that.”

“He’s dead to the world.” You roll your eyes, though you’re petting Sirius’ hair fondly. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” 

Still, you sigh and pick up the towel when Remus nudges it towards you pointedly, rolling your neck in preparation. James feels a bit of warmth come to his face (he was only partly joking about how attractive you are when you stretch). 

It’s a bit difficult for you at first, clearly, the result of growing a bit lax about your stretches over the past few days. James can see Remus’ lips press together like he’s physically restraining himself from commenting on it. A low whine builds in your throat. 

“There you go,” says Sirius in a salacious tone. James is beginning to suspect he’s more awake than he’s letting on. “Tell us how you really feel, sweetheart.” 

“This is so pointless,” you grumble. “It’s too lame to do anything.” 

“Don’t say that,” James chides you. It’s not his intention to make you feel like you can’t vent to them, but James is firmly of the belief that ceasing negative talk will eventually lead to an abatement of negative thoughts. “It’s working, you just need to give it time. You’re tons better than you were a couple of weeks ago, right?” 

“If you mean I can pick up an empty soda can,” you say drily, “then yes.” 

“That is what I mean. Empty soda cans are a big step.” 

“It’s a process,” Remus tells you in a more placating tone. “You can’t expect to be all the way better overnight. Especially not if you’re not doing your stretches.” 

You don’t miss the judgment threaded through that last bit, your expression turning sour again. Sirius appears to sense this without opening his eyes. He hugs you around the middle, smearing a kiss over your thigh. 

“You’ll get there, lovie,” says James. “And hey, if it’ll help, I can sit with you while you do your stretches every day. I wouldn’t mind that at all.” 

Remus snorts, and Sirius mumbles something into your skin that sounds like “I’ll bet you wouldn’t.”

[brattyspence]

virginia is for lovers | s.reid

summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post

tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau

a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 

Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 

You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.

Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 

That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 

The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.

It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.

“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”

He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 

“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 

“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”

She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.

“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 

“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”

“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”

He scrolled down.

liked by @jjareau and others

@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago

↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE

↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞

↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3

↪ 12k comments

He clicked onto your profile. 

@yourusername 

5.2M Followers

Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more

“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”

“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.

June 10

@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.

June 25

@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 

@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)

July 30:

@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage

August 15

@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻

@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 

August 20

@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!

↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl

↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡

↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘

“Oh, wow.”

She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”

“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”

“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.

He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 

You picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”

“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”

“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”

“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.

“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”

“That's what I wanted,” You reply.

“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”

You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.

He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”

You groan. 

[merrycrisis-if]

So is merry crisis not gonna be an if anymore but rather a vn? What does that mean for its progress? I'm a bit worried tbh...

Also i thought you were working alone on it but you keep saying "we" in your new monsoon games posts? I'm genuinely confused about everything. Maybe i missed smth...

Heya! Super fair question, and I get where you're coming from. I love Merry Crisis as it is right now, and I know how concerning it may be to see me spending time "fixing something that ain't broke".

I just want to emphasise two things that I think might reassure you somewhat:

I'm very much still focusing on writing Merry Crisis above all else, and that's always going to be my priority. (I love writing first and foremost!)

That said, I've been giving it a lot of thought, and I do truly believe that my vision for Merry Crisis leans more toward visual novel than it is fully text-based; the reason why I started with COG/HG is simply that it was the thing that got me into Interactive Fiction, and the only language I knew 2 years ago. Now, 2 years later, I can genuinely say that my coding/programming skills have improved, and discovering Ren'py really clicked. Like, I feel in my bones that this is the form of the story that I want to tell, and I'm glad to have it in my arsenal/as one of my options now.

On the second point, I hope it at least counts for something that I am not making the decision lightly, and I genuinely think that when you guys see it in the form I'm imagining, you'll love it too/be as excited as I am. More details / answers to the rest of your questions below the cut.

I'm still going to be focusing on writing merry crisis while I find artists- and even when I do settle on artists, since I won't be the one doing the art (thankfully), writing progress should still be made at the same(ish) speed.

That said, porting to a visual novel format does require a fair amount of editing, and yes, I will need to balance that with writing new content.

As for the actual details of implementation and what language/format I will be updating in, I am currently writing the new chapter in choicescript, and it will be updated in that format for 1 more chapter at least (possibly more). Hope that answers things!

[rwrbficrecs]

Our September & October recs ❤️

make lemonade by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@dot524: This author consistently posts stellar works but I often finish wanting more of that world. This one is nice and long — yay! I loved this meet-cute where Alex’s daughter Claudia has a lemonade stand and Henry is one of their favorite customers. This was a bit of an exploration of divorced dad (single dad) Alex. His mixed feelings about coparenting and starting a new relationship were nicely developed. Such a great warm fuzzy fic, with a nice bit of angst and character development mixed in to make things interesting. And I loved the kid character, Claudia!

falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This road trip AU is so fun, partly because of how soft our favorite boys are, but also just because of Alex's bright personality throughout the whole thing, and the faith and hope that's a critical part of the book!

we should get married by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I had heard people talking about this green card marriage AU for months, and the hype was definitely warranted (as with all of this author's writing)! Little details from the book used in a new way, instant attraction, both of them being exactly what the other needs, exploration of other relationship dynamics within the book... this fic has so much depth in its 4 chapters, and it's fantastic!

Cleansing Downpour by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)

@na-dineee: It often seems like things between June and Nora were always easy, like they were just meant to be. But what if it wasn't that simple? Feeling stuck in life, June is caught between writing a book she’s starting to hate, and navigating her growing feelings for her best friend. A beautifully written story of change, friendship and love, and figuring out who you really are.

runaway now and forever more by tonystarked (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Aged Alex and Henry, a US Senator and an English Prince, have been pining for each other for what feels like forever. Could tonight, at a glamorous charity event, finally be the night they open up to one another? This beautifully heart-wrenching and incredibly poetic fic has been stuck in my head ever since I read it!

The Candy Tax by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely adorable! It's the perfect nostalgia trip for anyone who went trick or treating, and it incorporates some of the pop culture references from the book in the best ways that just add to what make this fic so cute!

Heart enough by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: What if Henry's the one who has to travel for the apology tour and instead of celebrating New Year's, they have a Halloween party? This fic adds so many layers and soft moments to the original, but still includes the heart and references we all love!

Halloween at Kensington by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Arthur POV of Halloween when his kids are little I didn't know I needed until I read it- this is so adorable, and Henry and Phillip's characterization in it is perfect!

I was cold as a stone (but I found what I'm lookin' for) by @miharaikko (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Author Henry has retreated to a small, secluded cabin in the mountains, hoping it will spark some writing inspiration. That's where he meets Alex, the owner of the cabin... The mountain and campfire vibes are absolutely wonderful. It's such a fluffy and heartfelt one-shot – just as recommendable as the other fics in the Flufftober: A Red Umbrella Collection.

Red, White and Royal Switcheroo by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This body swap AU left me wondering how everything would have been different in the rest of the story- it's that good! It has the heart and content of the original, plus moments that are brand new- and watching the boys pretend to be each other is fantastic!

Oblivion by @milowren29 (book-verse)

@dot524: This story has been on my reading list for a while and wow, did it live up to expectations! Alex and Henry are kidnapped during their visit to the hospital, and they trauma-bond during their experience. But what will happen afterward? How will this change things between them? The action, angst, and longing in here is spot-on and the storytelling is so well-done.

Sounds of Someday by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: USA 1972, three weeks on a road trip on the 'road to nowhere' heading toward Texas: writer Henry and farm boy Alex. This fic is so layered and full of hurt and emotions. The ending completely knocked the wind out of me. An absolute masterpiece, please everyone, read it – it's phenomenally good in terms of language, storytelling, and capturing the spirit of the time !!

blizzards and broken boundaries by @gayhoediaz (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Age gap – I love this trope with Henry and Alex. Here, it’s a 20+ year difference: Alex is a student, Henry his professor. Alex makes the move, Henry is very amenable. The alternating POV is so cleverly done, the tags say PWP, but I definitely felt all the feelings. Absolutely delicious!

These violent delights by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Henry as a vampire hunter in this fic is such an intriguing concept and the backstory of it and the fic's conflict is so well done!

With magic soakin' my spine, can you read my mind? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Pining and magic and revelations abound in this fic that's written so well, it gave me chills. This fic is definitely a must-read if you want a canon divergent fic that has just a hint of magic!

to belong to a family (even beyond this world) by @read-and-write- (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The Mexican part of Alex's heritage absolutely shines through in this- and this is definitely a fic you want to read if you want Día de los Muertos fic and all the Arthur feels! I also love all the neurodiversity in this fic!

A Beautiful Reality by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Priest!Henry is back. The second part of The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To Is When I'm Alone With You is out!! And – surprise: He’s not a priest anymore. But it’s not that easy to shake off those deeply rooted beliefs and Catholic guilt. Luckily, Alex is so patient and totally in love.

The Brightest Star by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@dot524: Single dad Alex meets children’s book author Henry, and they connect immediately. The obstacle in this story is Alex’s sense of duty to his daughter, Bia. She’s quick and creative, and she’s brimming with opinions. I’m a bit picky about OC’s and kids in fics, but this one was so well done. It’s full of fun dialogue and well-realized feelings and angst. Definitely check it out!

A Love That Haunts the Land by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Once again, this author has blended Mexican culture and RWRB in a way that's so authentic- plus there's magic! This is one you won't want to miss!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[irunaki]

these guys seem interesting!!

*rubs hands mischievously*

so!!!! first one is Dystan :) used he/him prounums, is aroace and has 29 years

He is a elthingt, thats a specie that has the main traits the branch-like horns and tail, they also have it on the shoulders and tip of the ears. they are rather rare, and i can make another post just talking about this specie if u want to

heres his age reference i ddi some time ago

so:

1-3 years: Born on the 3º island, in a small village

5 years: The war bettween Hokht and Anghuliums gets worse, desvasting his village since it was in the middle, loses his family and home. he manages to escape

7 years- after two years of just running away and trying to find a place to live, usually staying in orphanages, a couple of lochtys adopts him, so he moves to the west of the insland to live with them

super lazy illustration of it

at 17 years he signs to the army, still on the war bettwen Hokht and Anghuliums, inicially in the rescue part, wanting to help with the ones who might be suffering what he did but 3 years later he gets transfered to the fighting part due to lack of soldiers.

23: is at the wrong place at the wrong time, by that it means he stepped on a mine bomb. fortunatly elthingt's instincts are pretty fast and the bomb wasnt really strong, so he ddint die but part of his face was disformed, losing a bit of the lip and cheek, and getting blind from the right eye.

24: leaves the army and starts looking for another job, travelling around the islands

25: finds a job as bodyguard for the Lenon family, a family of wealthy demons inn the 1st insland, in the kingdom of Bleshram

heres the family

and thats it, hes been working with them till now :3

extra info:

when he was in the army there was a man that was REALLY in love with him, like constantly flirting (horrible flirt btw), sending gifts, doing declarations to the point that Dystan almost got happy when he died on a battle

nowwith the bodyguard job, he really enjoyys conversations with Firith, the second son, even if most conversations are him just listening (he isnt a big speaker)

listening to him complaining about being rich^

he really likes horses and to cook, specially spicy food

he always sends letters to his mothers, and goes visit them often

bonus of da boy smilling

old drawing lol

OK NEXT ONE

not so long cuz i dont like them as much as i like Dystan lmao

ok so, Marya and Mario

Marya is 18, a human, she/her and bi?didnt decided yet

Mario is 7, hes a boy

i changed their desings slightly since then but not that much

they were born in Bleshram. their father dissapeared a bit before Mario was born and that lead to a deep depression on their mother, who then died of a sickness from being vulnerable.

also, Bleshram is a mainly-demon populated kingdom, so its a bit harder to steal to live being a human cuz humans r dumber and slower but she does what she needs

uhh then a rich demon kinda kidnaps them to force MArya to work for him, but he actually makes their life way better

the red haired one (Netami)

tysm for asking!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's doodles of them as a bonus

[omiangelic]

shared moments (dabi)

a handful of shared moments between you and your maybe more than friend, touya todoroki, the flame villain.

this is a prequel to the first fic i posted, pheonix, but it could be read as a standalone !

wc: 2.8k

reader is not described but is implied to have a quirk that makes them colder. i also imply that they're a nurse who frequently works with burn patients, including dabi's victims.

cw: 18+ ONLY !!! no smut, just kissing, grinding, and shirts come off but it ends pretty quickly after that. dabi accidentally wounds reader (a small burn from trying to wake him from a nightmare), mentions of abuse, murder, dying, and nausea. soft yet emotionally stunted and avoidant dabi

playlist: maybe by flower face, zombie by everglow, voidstar and longlegs by grim salvo

He’s shaking, head in your lap. You think he might be crying, but his hands are covering his face as he curls up as tight as he can. Dabi didn’t usually spend the night, but on rare occasion you can wrangle him into sleeping a few hours before running off who knows where. Tonight had been fun, daresay cozy, watching bad movies under a blanket so you could use him as a space heater and he could use you as an icepack.

It’s near four in the morning, far past when he usually sneaks out of your tiny apartment, when you awoke to his distress. He’d been squirming on his side of your too-small bed, mumbling and whimpering unconsciously. Even now, you don’t think he’s realized the small burn on your arm from trying to wake him, but you don’t move to soothe it; you’re too busy trying to soothe him. You rub his side over his shirt and pet a hand through his spiky hair even though he’s long since stopped shaking. You pretend you don’t care you have work in a few hours.

Now, he’s completely motionless, arms fallen to the cushion of the mattress. His voice is raspier than normal when he finally speaks, “…Sorry about that.”

“’S okay. I’ve seen worse.”

You both know he’s caused your ‘worse’.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on up here?” You tap your fingers softly against his temple. It’s a miracle he hasn’t moved yet.

“Don’t think that’s something you’d wanna hear about.”

“You can tell me anyways,” you can practically hear him go over the notion in his head. You met almost a year and you hardly know anything about the man besides his preferred snacks and the types of movies he likes to make fun of.

He thinks for a bit before stating, “you’ve never asked about my scars.”

You hum in agreement. The healed tissue is naturally textured but worsened from insufficient aftercare. The skin grafts look like they were done by someone with medical experience, at least. “Were you dreaming about when you got them?” The scar tissue on his face always made it look like the flames had tried to take him in its hands; like it wanted to soothe him. Console him. You want to do the same.

“Kinda,” he says after another long pause, like he’s trying to find the words, “maybe more like ‘why’.”

He can’t see you frown at that. You don’t like the implication it carries.

He’s quiet for a long time while you brush through his hair. It’s gotten longer- you think you can see blonde roots peak through the inky black.

“My old man…real shit guy,” he takes in a shaky breath and subtly curls deeper into your lap, “I’m gonna kill him one day.”

(You didn’t think he was serious, then.)

“All he cares about is power. He bought my ma so he could create a child more powerful than him. I’m the oldest of four- and his biggest failure,” you wince at the way he chuckles, “It’s funny. He got what he wanted. My youngest brother is a prodigy. He’s one of the top students at U.A.,” Dabi stops again, like he has to prepare himself for what he’s about to say, “I hated that kid for so long. Tried to kill him when he was a toddler, wanted to prove I was better than him. When I was twelve or thirteen I told dear old dad I got stronger,” another pause “He didn’t care,” another pause, like he’s debating telling you the rest at all, “I burned down half a forest, woke up three years later. The fucker who fixed me up showed me pictures of my funeral and everything. Ma got institutionalized not long after…but I gave myself a new name, since I died that day.”

“What was his name?” You ask impulsively. You wish you could take those words back, stuff them in your mouth and swallow them down

“Who’s?” He looks up.

“The boy who died.”

Dabi looks away again, contemplates before relenting, “Touya. Touya Todoroki”

“Touya sounds like a sweet kid. I hope he’s resting easy.”

It’s like the words flipped a switch in him. He shoots to sit up straight. His eyes are angry. Scared.

“You don’t know shit about him.”

“That’s not the point.”

He gets up, paces the length of the bed a few times, stops, looks at the ground, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know shit about me.”

“And whose fault is that?” You really need to learn when to shut your stupid mouth.

He looks up. Sees you fully for the first time since waking. He can see the welt he caused on your arm in his post-nightmare panic. His anger dies. His eyes widen. You reach to slap your hand over it to shield it from view, but he has his jeans on and his jacket and boots in hand before you can find words to say. He’s out the door before you can ask him not to leave.

(You call out of work that day. You won’t hear from him for three weeks.)

Later that day, the search results for Touya Todoroki hurt as bad as you expected them to. There aren’t many paparazzi pictures of him, only a handful of him with his dad at award ceremonies.

His dad. Pro hero Endeavor.

The news coverage of his son’s death is minimal, and it’s mostly about Endeavor taking a leave of absence from hero duties to grieve with his family, but the obituary is public. The white haired boy in the picture looks so young. It’s not very detailed aside from denoting that his funeral was a private ceremony.

You open a new tab and search for fire related quirk malfunctions or natural disasters from around the same time. Its not hard to narrow down that the forest fire that destroyed Sekoto Peak was Dabi’s doing. The flames had been massive and unnaturally hot, nearly impossible to contain. There was barely anything left besides charred bone fragments from wildlife and the partial jawbone of the only human casualty they could find. The victim is unnamed, but it says the police were able to identify them through dental records and bring closure to the family.

There’s a handful of pictures of Endeavor at the scene. They make your stomach churn.

A third tab. Endeavor. There are news articles about his most recent achievements and a few about his youngest son, Shoto, who recently passed the entrance exams into U.A., just like Dabi said.

You feel nauseous.

It’s so comfy laying here wrapped around him like a koala. He’s cold and hot at the same time. There’s one hand cradling the back of your head to his chest while the other rubs your back over the blanket he draped over you.

You don’t usually let him in when work gets you like this. He’s usually the cause, being the most prolific fire quirked villain in the country, but you felt like you needed him today. A little boy had come in with his parents after his first quirk manifestation. All you could see was a young Touya Todoroki when you looked at him. Now all you feel is the pain you feel for the real thing who has you cradled in his arms like you’re more than maybe a friend.

Dabi is prickly when it comes to touch- despite the nerve damage, his scars are sensitive- but for you, he makes exceptions, especially since this is his first time seeing you since his meltdown last month. When he woke up in his dingy-ass apartment today, he knew he had to see you, knew something was wrong. His gut was right. You practically collapsed crying in his arms when you opened the door.

You’ve barely said anything since he’s settled the two of you down on your bed. Every time he thinks about saying something, you burrow impossibly closer into his chest like if you try hard enough you can crawl in his ribs and clean out all the ash and soot that make him up.

He wants to apologize for how he left. He wants to tell you he was scared, that he’s still scared, because he’s never let anyone get close the way you have, and he doesn’t know why he yearns for you to be closer. It’s the only time he ever wishes things had gone differently. If he was closer to a normal guy, less of one of the most wanted villains in the country, maybe he’d let himself be happy to be known by you.

But the only thing Dabi can do is destroy. He burns too hot to be anyone’s light.

Dabi is ruthless. He’s a monster, a villain, a killer; there’s nothing that could clean the blood from his hands.

That doesn’t stop him from pretending things are different, even if just for a moment. You’re naturally cooler to the touch and he finds it hard to imagine ever choosing to be anywhere but in your arms. It’s such an unfamiliar feeling.

Dabi’s never had to comfort someone before. He’s never really wanted to, either.

He isn’t one to be soft or kind or comforting. It’s all so confusing. How do you drag this out of him? Why is he so content with this moment? Something about you makes him different. He doesn’t know what to do with that.

He’s scared. He’s angry. He’s unhappy.

You pull yourself away from him completely, scooting to lay on your back on the other side of your bed.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “you can go now. That was probably really uncomfortable for you. You can leave now, if you want.”

Your eyes are so empty. He’s never seen you like this. He doesn’t know what to do. He thinks he wants to stay, make his last visit up to you with more time tonight, but would you rather he go? Should he ask about what upset you? This is so new to him.

He leaves.

The next time he’s over, you pretend to not notice the tension in the air. You move around in your usual sync, gathering snacks and scrolling through the worst rated movies you can find. You feign obliviousness to the way his eyes linger on you for longer than usual and curl up on the opposite side of the choice from him, like the months of slowly shifting closer to each other didn’t happen.

The jokes are bored and the laughs are empty.

He doesn’t spend the night. You don’t ask him to. He doesn’t know why he feels so hollowed out when he leaves.

A few weeks later, after watching movies and ignoring elephants in rooms, you fall asleep. Dabi waits, lets whatever’s playing continue to run while he watches you breathe in and out at a steady rhythm.

The credits roll. He turns off the T.V. and welcomes the darkness lit only by the city as he gets up to lay you down on your little couch. He’s never done this for you before- he doesn’t know why he’s doing it now. Your eyes flutter open as he kisses your forehead and tucks you into your blanket you keep out here.

(He did it without thinking, like it was natural, a habit. He was a big brother, once. He hadn’t realized that part of him survived.)

You look up at him as he stares down at you, eyebrows furrowed at his surprised expression. His eyes flicker to your lips without his permission. He’s already leaning over you, it’d be so easy to crawl on top of you, kiss you, wherever and however you want.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it. Maybe it’s Himiko’s insistence he grow up and take the risk, maybe it’s a moment of weakness where he allows himself to forget who and what he is, but he’s pressing a soft kiss to your lips without realizing. The contact makes your head jerk back, eyes wide in shock, surprise, wonder. You look at him like there’s something worthy of being looked at. His mouth moves to apologize, but you’re shooting your hands to hold his scarred cheeks and pressing you lips to his before he can try. Your skin is so cold against his had surprised at the lack of steam. He thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He doesn’t reciprocate in his shock. His response is even further delayed by the fact that he’s never done this before. He feels like a teenager- or what he imagines what being a teenager under more normal circumstances would allow him. As you move to pull away, afraid you’ve somehow overstepped, Dabi is snapped out of his shock, and he’s pulling you back in. His kiss is messy, wet, spit slick as his tongue licks into your mouth with no hesitation. The taste of his urgency is unexpected but he feels so incredible you can hardly stand it. You revel in the way his dull nails bite into your skin when you whimper at the sensation.

His hands are heavy as they make their way down your body, nearly pushing like he needs a constant reminder that this is real. Before you know it, he’s on the couch, on top of you, pushing at your shirt and you’re pulling it over your head in compliance. Dabi takes the moment to yank off his own; his torso is a marble of normal and scarred skin with a shiny barbell through each nipple. You wonder briefly if the metal is hot like the rest of his skin as his lips crash back into yours. One hand in your hair, the other on your waist- he’s pushing you down, pulling you in, until he's all but crushing you in his desperation.

You moan when he lets up, “Dabi-“

“No, no- don’t call me that. I don’t want to feel like a villain with you,” he’s equally breathless, practically heaving above you.

“…Touya?”

Your uncertainty is immediately discarded when he fully moans at the sound of his given name on your lips, “yes, yes, thank you-“ and he’s kissing you again, cradling your face like you’re porcelain but grinding down like you’re the farthest thing from fragile.

His grip tightens when the pressure of his hips makes you moan.

The weight of his body makes you dizzy. His lips and hands move down your neck, licking, biting, and sucking at all the skin newly exposed to him and it feels so good you don’t now what to do with yourself. You decide on shoving your hands in his hair; you’re pulling it at the root when he bites down next, and he’s moaning into your throat like it might kill him to be quiet.

What does he want from me? The question crashes through your brain like a bullet. You don’t know if you want to actually ask. Would it be so bad to let this happen, just to have him close like this? Is the burden of wanting from afar easier to carry than having him halfway? Yes. Of course it is.

Your sudden unresponsiveness stills him. He pulls away to find your eyes distant and face neutral.

“Touya?” You ask after a silent minute filled with his thumbs rubbing circles in your waist, “what did that mean? To you, for us?”

He gulps, “I don’t know.”

He hadn’t thought this far ahead. He hadn’t thought at all.

“You don’t know,” you echo.

He’s off you before you can decide what to make of his answer.

“Sorry, don’t know why I did that- sorry,” you think you hear as he fumbles around for his coat and his boots. You don’t say anything. You don’t even look at him. Instead, you focus on the ceiling it’s almost too dark to see. You think you hear him pause at your door, but your head is so loud and intelligible you aren’t paying attention.

The static doesn’t block out the sound of your front door shutting, though.

(Neither of you realize he left his shirt behind until after he’s already out the door. You pretend you resist the urge to cuddle it to catch his scent on it, and he will pretend he doesn’t imagine you doing just that.)

Ever the coward, Touya runs. He throws up his shame once he’s in his own apartment. He knows he shouldn’t have left. He didn’t want to- but he didn’t know how to stay either.

He hates himself more than he has in a long time for tonight.

His burner buzzes in his pocket. It’s Shigaraki. plans in motion.

He doesn’t think you’ll forgive him for doing this, but it’s been building since before he met you. It’s not like he has any sort of life or future to look forward to anyways. It’s not like he gives you much to miss anyways.

Soon. Endeavor’s head. Soon.

dividers by @/issysh3ll and @/thecutestgrotto

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[sunderingstars]

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mr. cold feet’s pop-up shop

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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

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My Main Takeaways

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— 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.

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Day 1

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— 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

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— 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.

[minnielvrr]

Day 22. Possessed

Lee: Jeongin Ler: Chan Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: it's been a while since i posted a fic hehe (sorry about that)😅 I hope you guys like this🤗💖

Tags: @itzsana-kiddingmenow, @lajanaa, @bbybumblelee, @hearted-anon, @lunalattae,

@reginald-stay09, @jungwon-is-the-one

Chan first discovered it one night, absentmindedly petting FoxI.Ny’s belly as he began drifting off to sleep. Meanwhile, Jeongin was humming in the shower, but his rhythmic tune quickly shifted into shrieky cackles.

And at first, Chan had been concerned, calling out to check on the maknae only to be waved off. Pouting at how Jeongin didn’t care for his affection anymore, he whined to the plush, brushing his fingers over its sides and ribs.

To throw a mini tantrum, he poked at where he assumed the little fox’s navel would be, digging in and wiggling his finger around. He’d do this to Innie too when he catches him later.

“He used to be so cute, all ‘Channie hyung this’ and ‘Channie hyung that’,” he complained, the featherlight brushing of his fingertips turning into harsher pokes to the doll’s torso that eventually morphed into scribbles over the soft material.

And for every stroke of his finger, Chan registered that the maknae’s laughter grew louder and louder until he was stumbling out of the bathroom. A towel was wrapped hastily around his hips, and bubbles of soap lined his broad shoulders.

Jeongin’s wide eyes and flushed cheeks made him look both surprised and completely helpless. His hands were clutching his sides tightly as water dripped on to the floor, forming a puddle at his feet.

His laughs were bordering on hysterical at this point and it was starting to alarm the leader. Their maknae had never acted like this before… and yet the whole scene felt vaguely familiar.

Jeongin’s face was beet red and he was gasping for breath as he flailed and scrambled about, his fingers scratching at his exposed torso as he attempted to get rid of the phantom sensations.

“Stop, stop stahahap!!” He pleaded, seemingly to no one. The leader was just about to rush to the younger’s side when his thumb accidentally prodded the plushie’s belly and Innie squealed loudly, flinching as he tried to cover his tummy too.

Chan paused. “No way…” he murmured, looking from the plush in his hands to the boy sputtering and giggling outside their bathroom.

Chan paused mid-poke, fingers hovering over the little plush as he quickly pieced together what was happening. He stared at the doll in his hands and then at the giggling, scrambling boy on the other side of the room.

“No way… could this actually be…?” he wondered, an impish grin spreading across his face. To test his theory, he gently kneaded FoxI.Ny’s sides, watching with brimming glee as Jeongin shrieked, clutching at his own. “This… is going to be fun.”

Stuffing FoxI.Ny under his pillow, he hopped off the bed and sprinted over to Innie whose knees had given out. Chan gently rubbed his back as the younger wheezed, his hand pressed to his chest.

“Innie, what’s going on?” He asked, doing his best to keep a poker face. He had a pretty good idea what was going on, but he wanted to hear Jeongin admit it.

“I-I’m not sure hyungie. I was taking a shower one moment and then I suddenly felt like I was being tickled all over. It was so scary, I thought it’d never stop.” Innie stammered out, breathing shakily.

He was trembling, arms wrapped around himself protectively and Chan felt like the worst person ever. He hadn’t at all intended to make his baby uncomfortable.

Standing up, he walked over to the bed and grabbed the doll. His abrupt actions puzzled Innie enough to direct his focus to Chan who held up the little doll.

He bit back a laugh, trying to look as nonchalant as possible as an excited buzz filled him.

‘Maybe just one more poke…Just one?’ He thought, his fingers twitching with barely-contained mischief but he decided to hold back. Perhaps it would be even more fun when Jeongin actually knew what was going on.

“That’s…. FoxI.Ny.” The maknae looked confused. Chan smiled a little, scraping his nail softly over the little fox’s tummy and in turn, Jeongin jolted, grabbing at his stomach as he giggled breathlessly.

“Oh.” The maknae looked even more puzzled than before, then as Chan brought a pair of wiggling fingers to hover over the doll, he shrieked. “Hyung, no! Please youhu have nohoho idea how bahad it tihickles,” he implored and Chan relented.

“Okay okay, you finish your night routine and then we can have our fun.” The leader set the doll down gingerly on his pillow and brought his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“You mean your fun, right? You’ll just be torturing me!” Innie teased with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Hey, don’t even try to pretend like you don’t love it just as much as I do!” Innie poked his tongue out at him and shut the door to the bathroom behind him, leaving Chan to plan just how well he’d wreck his baby soon.

Innie took… much longer than usual to finish up, spending the better part of an hour hiding behind the pretense of completing his hair, skin and nail care. Chan let him, finding the younger’s nervousness endearing to the highest level.

He wondered if the other plushies around their dorm also had the same effect and not wanting to suffer the same fate he was going to inflict on Innie soon, he ventured out to find it.

He found both Wolf Chan and Leebit sitting on their dining table, sandwiched between two mugs as PuppyM stood over them with a fork taped to his hand and an unnerving smile on his face.

Chan giggled at the setup. Of course, Seungmin’s son was reigning supreme, even in their world.

He tucked Wolf Chan safely away in his hoodie, holding the other two in one hand and used his free hand to scribbled at their hips.

It earned him twin shrieks from Lixie’s room and a barrage of squabbling ensued when Minho and Seungmin began accusing everyone around them.

Chan didn’t wait around, zooming into the kitchen where he found Bbok.Ari hugging Dwaekki while Jiniret and Han Quokka guarded over their fruit basket with straws as their weapons of choice.

He gathered them all into his arms, stuffing some of the plushie in his hoodie pocket before making his way back to his room, buzzing with excitement. Every plushie he tucked into his hoodie felt like a new secret weapon.

Just thinking about his baby’s cute giggles and desperate pleas made him want to squeal with joy. He walked in on Jeongin searching the room desperately.

“Looking for this, Innie?” He called, watching with building amusement at the way the maknae flinched, then stilled. “Hyung…. I was just…”

The way he stood made Chan want to laugh. Innie looked so small and adorable, his hair still damp from the shower and the apples of his cheeks beginning to glow with a pink hue.

“You’re not running away from me, Innie~ I can find you with a simple swipe riiiight—ACK!” The moment he brought the plush out, Jeongin lunged, tackling Chan to the floor and stuffed his hands in the older’s armpits.

“Noahahahaha thihihis ihisn’t hohohow thihis wahas suppohosed tohoho gohohoho!!”

Chan gasped, giggles bubbling up as he struggled, arms wrapping tightly around the plushies he currently had on his person. Jeongin’s fingers were ruthless, digging into the centers of his pits— a spot the younger knew well to be Chan’s weak point.

“How’s that feel hyung-ah? Should I keep you giggling so sweetly for meHEHE—AH NOHOHOHO!!” While Jeongin was busy taunting him, the leader had found his doll, focusing all his effort on drilling into FoxI.Ny’s underarms.

The youngest fell back with a screech, kicking his feet and shaking his head as a wide, dimpled smile made its way to his face.

Catching his breath, Chan couldn’t help but grin, his heart swelling at Jeongin’s desperate laughter. Gosh, Innie was just too cute when he was like this

His face always lit up in the most adorable shade of pink, with little splotches of red deepening as the ticklish sensations got to him.

“What’s wrong Innie? You were so smug just a minute ago! Can’t take what you dish out?” Chan teased; eyes gleaming when the effects of his words manifested in the form of Jeongin’s pretty face being shoved into a pillow.

“Youhuhu ahahahre soHOHOHO UNFAHAHAIR CHAHAHANNIE HYUHUHUNG!” He whined, helpless through a stream of uncontrollable cackles.

“Now, be good for me, baby. Let me hear those pretty laughs,” Chan murmured, easing the pillow away with a soft, almost fond smile.

Exposed, the poor boy tried crawling away, twisting and rolling around to escape. However, the attempt only served to amuse the older.

“nahahAHAHAHA, NOHOT THEHEHERE! PLEASE HYUHUHUNG OHOHO MYHY GAHAHAD!!”

Jeongin staggered around, finally collapsing onto the floor in a fit of cackles when Chan aimed for the plushie's hips. He yelped, hands flying down to his own and clawing at the skin.

Somehow even his touch tickled, his raking fingers sending more shockwaves up his spine and frying his brain. It seemed that no matter what he did, he was well and truly at the mercy of their leader.

When twisting and turning didn’t seem to work either, Innie resorted to punching the fluffy carpet near their bed, eyes tearing up and cheeks aching from laughing so much.

“Yah keep it down, you’re gonna wake everyone up,” the oldest chided lightly, giggling at the way Innie struggled to retort but his words were swallowed by another onslaught of laughter.

“Ihihihim tryhyhyhing! Ihihim tryahahahaying!! Hyuhuhung ahahahahahahaha!!” It was even more fun knowing that while Chan knew that the rest were awake, sweet, naive Innie did not.

“Slohohow dohohohown!! Chahannie hyuhuhung pleheHEASE!!” He begged, hands clamping over his face to muffle his sounds but he couldn’t help but be loud with the way Chan’s fingers danced over the plushie’s vulnerable body.

“Okay.” And just like that, Chan let up. Jeongin gasped for breath, shooting a suspicious look over to the older. “That easy?” He asked, eyes narrowed.

“I never said this was over~ Now, how about a deal? I’ll stop if you give me a kiss, right here.” He tapped his cheek, eyes crinkling when Jeongin gagged playfully.

“No? Well then… Oh! I can finally get you to admit it with this!” Chan gasped out suddenly, eyes wide and bright and brimming with mischief.

And with that, the older’s hands were back. Chan resumed lightly, just tracing the tips of his fingers teasingly over FoxI.Ny’s sides and up his arms.

The action had Innie letting out the softest giggles, squirming from where he lay on the floor. “Nohohoho, nohohot agahahahahain!”

“Geez, how are you already laughing baby? I really can’t believe how ticklish you are.” The way Chan said it, completely matter of fact, without any teasing just made it worse. But Innie powered through. It’s not like he had a lot of options here.

The sweet sounds warmed Chan’s heart, his own smile stretching wide as he watched the youngest melt under his touch.

“Ahadmit whahahat?” Innie’s voice was growing more incoherent by the second. “That you actually really love the affection we show you!” Chan looked a little too determined for Innie to think he was bluffing.

“Ihihihi dohoHOHON’T!!” He tried protesting but the oldest wouldn’t hear it.

“Okay be that way then maknae-ah~ I’m not the one who’s gonna be tickled out of his mind.”

The softness didn’t last long, though. The leader walked over to him, and ticking the plushie with one hand he used the other to alternate tickling the same spot or a different spot on Innie's body.

“Ahhh IhihIHI HAHAHAHATE YOUHUHUHU!!” Jeongin giggled frantically, jerking away, when Chan changed spots, as if he could escape the torment.

The overlapping sensations sent the poor boy into hysterics, voice high pitched and rough as he howled with laughter. He fought weakly against Chan, but the older clearly had the upper hand here.

“FUHUHUHUCK HYUHUHUNG YOUHUH’RE KIHIHILLIHING MEHEHEHE!!” He all but wailed, Chan tsking at him to not be so dramatic.

There was no hope of the sweet torture ending and the younger boy started to feel a little light headed and buzzed, eyes dropping with exhaustion and laughter slowly dying down.

Jeongin’s resolve was broken easily. The exhaustion from the day and the older’s ruthless actions chipping away at the remains of his willpower.

“FIHIHINE IHIhi lohove youhuhur affectiohon!” He giggled out with the lasts of his breath, Innie’s laughter going silent soon after.

It was then that Chan stopped, helping him sit up and bringing an uncapped bottle of water to his lips. He drank the cool liquid in a daze, giggles still spilling out as random tingles zoomed over his skin.

He felt hyper aware now of where the leader's hands rested around his waist, flinching at the slightest movement.

Chan laughed at him, assuring him that he would be spared in exchange for a kiss and by now, the maknae was too exhausted to put up any act of disgust.

So, he leaned over and pecked Chan's cheek, huffing out a laugh at the blush that flooded the older's face.

Chan was so adorably transparent with his emotions. He leaned over and pecked his other cheek just so he could watch their usually bold eldest break down into shy giggles, hiding his face in Jeongin's chest.

“Stooop!” He whined, growing flustered from the younger’s unexpected affection.

And feeling suddenly emboldened by Chan’s reaction, Jeongin cupped his face, littering kisses on every inch of skin he could reach.

Then he sat back, still holding Chan's face up to look at him as his skin grew hotter under Innie's hands and redder under his amused gaze.

"You're so cute hyung." He told him, sending a scribble to his side as he got up and brushed himself off before climbing in bed—specifically in Chan's bed.

That night, he cuddled the oldest for a change, which allowed him gleeful little perks like leaning over to whisper to Chan every way he'd tickle him, all the different techniques he'd use on each of the leader's worst spots once he had Wolf Chan in his hands.

"I won't let you escape hyung-ah. I'm going to wring out all your squeakiest laughs and I'm going to record it. And what if I even get you to snort?”

Chan squeaked, trying to cover his ear but Jeongin wrapped his arms around him, pinning Chan’s own to his sides and rendering them useless. For once, he had hyung right where he wanted him, and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip.

“Maybe Hannie hyung or Binnie hyung would use it in our next song~ Just imagine it, your cute little squeals for STAY to hear! They’d love it so much!" He mused softly, smirking when Chan's ears burned and the older squirmed in his hold, breath hitching and stuttering at the other's words.

"What's the matter, hyung? If just hearing about it makes you this flustered, I can't wait for the real thing." He teased. Jeongin knew it was mean, he also knew how much Chan liked being teased despite how shy he got.

He gently petted the older’s hair, helping him calm down from the embarrassment. Chan eventually gave him the little plush, smoothening his hands over its ruffled fur one last time before Jeongin snatched it away.

Then the older turned and pulled him into a hug; the kind that seemed to last for ages and take away every last bit of your strength. The kind that makes your worries and fears and insecurities fade feel not as heavy anymore.

He nestled his face into Chan’s shoulder, letting himself relax completely and enjoying the warmth radiating from Chan’s embrace.

Chan didn’t speak, didn’t say anything and he appreciated that. It made him feel cherished in a way he hadn’t quite expected.

It’s was nice, he thought, how Chan could make him feel so safe just by being close. Playfulness aside, there was something grounding about being held like this, something that made him feel… protected.

Chan’s hugs were like his own quiet version of healing, an unspoken promise of comfort that Jeongin had come to depend on more than he’d ever admit.

Feeling a swell of gratitude, Jeongin gave Chan’s arm a gentle squeeze, letting his eyes drift shut as he whispered, “Thanks, hyung. I mean it.”

The next morning, a lot of things seemed suddenly much more exciting. Rested and ready, the duo now had a secret weapon against everyone else in the band.

The two plotting against Minho this way. The next day, Chan tackled Minho during one of their breaks between dance practices, hands immediately going to the younger's ribs and vibrating into the crevices.

As he did, he glanced up, making eye contact with Jeongin, twin smirks appearing before Innie pulled out Leebit and began tickling roughly over its belly.

The maknaes fingers were quick, flitting about, one hand easily becoming two as Minho gasped, his hands shooting down to his belly from where they'd been grappling with Chan's.

“Get ohohohoff!! Youhuhuhuhu’re heheavyhy and groHOHOSS!!” He squealed, back arching and head thrown back as he struggled.

He couldn't see who was tickling his stomach, feeling pretty sure that both of Chan's hands were busy by his ribs. Not knowing his other attacker only made Minho feel more sensitive.

“Fuhuhuhuhck CHAHAHAHANNIE HYUHUHUNG PLEHEHEASE!!” He pleaded helplessly, struggling to escape.

But he wasn't allowed the luxury of having anything more than surface level thoughts when another pair of hands began squeezing his thighs and curling under his knees. Insults and retorts rose and died at the tip of his tongue.

And no matter how hard Minho kicked out, the movements didn't so much as pause, sending him spiraling into a giggly demise. How tragic.

This was what teamwork looked like—or at least, what their teamwork looked like. Perfectly in sync, with Chan’s hands scribbling over Minho’s hips and Jeongin’s own squeezing and poking his sides.

Together, the two reduced poor, ticklish Minho to a mess of laughter. His clothes and hair ruffled beyond help and neck and ears painted a beautiful shade of crimson.

They didn’t let up on their victim until the 15-minute break was over, Minho looking like he’d run a marathon as he lay limp on the floor.

“I’ll get you back Chan-ah!” The kitten vowed from his spot, “both you and your sneaky little helper!” But his flushed cheeks and teary eyes dampened the weight of his threat.

Chan and Jeongin shared a look, grinning smugly to themselves. There was still much, much more fun to be had and mischief to be dealt before they gave away their little secret.

[cj-the-random-artist]

I implied a while ago that I was gonna add some lore to this post at some point and its been a bit and I have time to add some QPR Narilamb au lore now so have some scribbles that I've been thinking about:

-Lambert's given name is Jaya (or Jay for those who want to shorten it), they have no real problem with being called their given name but they also don't really hand it out without being asked?? None of their cultists know it, but Narinder does, and so do the Goat and Ratau (and maybe Forneus too, cuz I think they're buddies)

-Lambert is. Terribly anxious. And horrified of the idea that they could ever be anything less than perfect all the time so they have a horrible time with boundaries and are also a major people-pleaser. This is something that they eventually like. Work through and they do eventually get better about all that stuff but it is a struggle for a while. They're also not terribly approachable...

-Lambert's also a complete insomniac who cannot fall asleep without an ungodly amount of like. Herbal tea. But the herbal tea that works best is a blend that they are also very allergic to (thanks to their godhood and stuff they don't experience any major allergic reactions but they get itchy enough to just. Give up on sleep forever)

-Narinder gets lots of wrist and back pain and all that stuff. I think at one point he had incredibly steady hands and overtime they've become less so, but never shaky.

-Narinder also gets to be transmasc because I love transmasc Narinder headcanons so very much

-Narinder also has horrible nightmares and also he occasionally gets night terrors. After the night terrors stopped the nightmares did not, in fact, stop, so he is also terrible about sleeping

-Almost the entire cult is. Legitimately terrified of Narinder for no reason. Save for like the other Bishops and a handful of Lambert's closest disciples

-Narinder is still closest to Shamura out of all of his siblings, they like to sit together and do activities simultaneously in the same room. He also spends time with his other siblings, and they tend to do family dinners about once a week. Only one of them has ended in a fistfight, and that was the first one.

I do have other like... lore ideas for this QPR Narilamb AU, but for now here's some random stuff I've been rolling around in my brain since I do believe I promised some lore with these sketches a while ago. Have a good one y'all

Have an array of mediocre pen sketches from the past several weeks, including some queerplatonic narilamb AU characterization thoughts for Lambert Narinder and the Goat, and a doodle of Narinder having a self care day inspired by the healing prompt from stychu’s amazing prompt list (that I would’ve done were it not for the fact that I’m awful at prompt list challenges)

I have more thoughts about these but I also have an Outside Activity to do very imminently so. Later

Enjoy these shenanigans and have a good one (and apologies for my awful handwriting lol)

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: thank you so much for all of the love and support for fourteen entire parts of this story ! hugs and kisses, xoxo

Nervously biting your lip, you waited for the phone to answer your call. The wrinkled napkin was even more wrinkled and you hoped that the slightly smudged numbers were accurate to the ones that you have digitally imputed.

A man picks up the phone, asking who this person is calling him for.

"Hi. Can I speak to John?" you say, trying to rid your voice of any type of nervousness.

"This is he. Wait.. I know this voice... Let me think, don't say it. I will get it right....Y/N? Right?" he says.

You chuckle and confirm. He asks you how you've been. Fall is starting soon and your schedule was clear enough to give him a phone call.

"So, I'm really glad that you called. I really think I should introduce you to somebody that you will go crazy for." he explains.

"Mhm." you say as he then continues after he hears your acknowledgment.

"I think you both will go crazy for each other actually. Both of your minds seem to be a lot alike. I showed him your work and he found the other work that you have posted, he like went crazy." he says and chuckles as you join in.

"So. Have you been to New York before?" he asks.

"Never." you say almost in shock. That was the very place you would love to go. Art seemed endless there.

"All I need is for you to tell me you would like to visit and a ticket will be in your email inbox before the leaves touch the ground." he says and you take a moment to think.

Paul wasn't there at the moment, making his rounds with Sam.

"Yes, I would love to but-"

"Good! I'll uh.. keep in touch and I'll see you soon." he says, his voice being much lighter since you somewhat accepted such an offer. He saw so much potential and wanted to introduce you into a deeper world.

The line goes dead as you rack your brain of how this conversation could go.

As the fork clinked against the plate, Paul chuckled to himself as he swallowed his food. He finally takes his eyes that were on his plate and directs them to your pupils.

"You must have to either tell me something or you want something."

You playfully roll your eyes, "If I want something, you know what I would do." you tell him. He gives you a look that makes you blush but you quickly recoup yourself before things go too far off track.

"Don't freak out please." you tell him carefully as your held your own fork.

He glanced at the dish that you served him, it was one of his favorites. You barely cooked it because you expressed how tedious it was. He thought you found the lost time.

"I wont freak out if its bad." he decides.

Knowing you're not going to get the promise you wanted, you nod as you just let the words roll off of your tongue.

"I'm going to New York soon."

"When?" he says immediately back.

"Soon, before the fall."

Smiling a bit but no intent of humor, he is a bit taken aback.

"That's... very close." he says.

"I just found out today while you were gone." you say defensively.

He doesn't say much as he furrows his eyebrows and looks back down at his plate. He's thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" you softly ask as you place a touch on his hand.

"Nothing."

"Liar." you say in a hushed tone.

"How long are you going to be gone?" he asks.

You slowly shrug, feeling a bit shameful for not knowing the definite answer. You felt it was a bit childish.

"And you accepted- wait. Who is in New York again?" he then asks.

"The guy who bought my painting." you explain.

"Oh." he drags out as he scrapes the last remainder of food that was on his plate, bringing it to his mouth, saying it as if he pieced the final piece to a puzzle.

"Do you think Sam will let you go?" you ask as you fold a napkin, over creasing it.

"Sure he would. If hell froze over." he answers.

"Plus, you don't know how long you're going to be gone." he says with his hands out.

Looking down, "I don't know, I thought you would think this is a good opportunity for me." you voice out.

"Y/N, it is. There's just no way in hell he's going to let me go miles and miles away from La Push for god knows how long." he says, if you didn't pay attention, you would’ve missed that there was a hint of somberness in his voice.

Getting up from your seat, his head is now in your arms as you hold it against your stomach. "I really wish you could come."

He doesn't say anything for some time but his arm fits snug around your waist. Once you are about to let him go, he surprises you with, "You're going far. I know I can't go. Can you at least ask someone to go with you?"

You intake a breath for a response but he adds in, "I would feel better knowing someone is going with you at least."

"I can see but..." you say giving him a knowing look. Sam admitted to checking up on Emily while doing errands. It was comical to think they would be able to handle being without each other for long.

He laughs a little, "I know."

"The idea of someone being with me doesn't sound bad, you know. You have to promise me to come with me the next time I go back." you tell him.

He leans up as you lean down, "Deal." he agrees. Instead of shaking on it, you both touch lips on it.

Another day came around as you woke up in bed alone. Covers were tucked tight with you, Paul didn't want you to be cold due to your lack of clothing. The weather was starting to show signs of change. The summer wave is blending into an end. You really had to wear a jacket for temperature purposes and not by fashionable choice.

Sliding it on, you closed the front door as you made you way to return the rest of your checked out books to the local library. You brought the almost finished Wuthering Heights, texting Bella since it was a public place.

"I'm at the library. I wanted to give you something."

You weren't a heartless person. It kind of made you feel bad as you read previous missed texts from Bella, asking you if you can talk on the phone or if you were free.

You tried your best to give Paul the stress free mentality of not dealing with her. Knowing the danger that she was constantly around, you were a bit scared of it rubbing off on you.

She immediately texts back. Not hearing from you in a long time, made her not want to miss an interaction with you.

"Okay. I'm omw"

You waited as you looked around. She didn't take long before she pushes open the clear entry door and have her chocolate eyes searching for yours.

What surprised you was the hug that she gave you. She pulls back with a nervous chuckle, "I'm sorry. I haven't heard from you in a while, that's all."

"Yeah." you say bringing a nervous chuckle of your own. You extend the book in her direction as she softly smiles.

Her smile fades as she notices that you haven't finished it. She echoes her observation.

"You haven't finished it."

"I know. I'm going out of town and I don't want to lose it or anything." you explain.

She vocalizes two tisks as she looks back at the returned book, "Y/N, give it back to me when you’ve actually read the entire thing."

"I don't even know when I'm coming back." you say, bringing your shoulders up a bit.

Her eyebrows furrow a bit, "Did you change your mind? Are you leaving for college?"

You shake your head, "The power of art."

She smiles again, "That's good. I'm happy for you."

"At least keep it until I get back." you tell her, trying your best to convince her.

"No way. You might need it for the trip going there. Wait, where are you going?"

You hesitated as you thought of her immortal boyfriend finding out.

"Y/N?" she asks again when she doesn't get an answer, but cautiously.

She didn't have to know the exact city or place. Just the state.

Her eyes grow big, "Wow. That's awesome. I've never been."

"Really?" you ask her as you both walk out of the library.

As much as her mother moved around, you were surprised.

"Yeah." she says as a lock of hair moved with her fingers to rest behind her ear.

As you walk her to her truck, she then says, "I'm sure Paul is going to miss you like crazy."

"Yeah. I shouldn’t be gone for too long.”

You hear her sigh as you watch her open a cab door.

"What's wrong?' you ask.

She takes a moment, before continuing, "Do you think.. Never mind." she says.

"What? What is it?" you press on.

"I mean.. It would be nice if I got to get away like you. I really don't want to spend my birthday here. Then, you’re leaving." she says with gloom as she looks around.

"But, you get to spend it with Edward. Besides, I'm sure it's going to be all work with no fun anyhow." you say, trying to shrug it off.

She doesn't say anything but you could easily tell she wanted to.

She instead decides to sit in her driver seat.

"I can drop you back off if you want me to." she says, noticing you don't have car keys.

"The air feels good today."

"Y/N, get in." she says.

Your heart thuds almost out of your chest at the thought of her finding out where you and Paul lived. Afraid of the information she would tell Edward, you decide to play with flipping the script.

"What were you up to? I don't really feel like going home. Paul is out right now." you say as you close the passenger door.

"Doing chores. Fun, huh." she says with dry humor but her eyes still light up.

"Very." you say and both share a series of chuckles.

"Do you want to come over?" she offers. There was hope in her voice. Bella hasn't really made a genuine friend, let alone a human friend, enough to ever ask this question. It felt good to willingly ask this question to someone.

You nod. It was way better than explaining to Paul on why Bella Swan knows where you both live.

Driving on the highway, you both soak in the comfortable silence. For some reason, you felt like you had to get inside of this chick's head.

Sitting crisscrossed on her soft bed, your eyes wander around her bedroom.

You caught sight of the pictures that hung up, kids that definitely went to her school. A picture of her and her father. "Cool mustache" , you thought to yourself. Bella being hugged tightly by Renee as you could feel her carefree nature just by one glance at the picture. A long haired boy next to her was muddy as blush was painted on Bella's cheeks with the boy's arm slung around her shoulder. Taking an extra glance, you notice that she was muddy in the picture as well. A picture that stuck out like a sore thumb out of all of them, was the one with the Cullen boy. If you hadn't seen him in person with her, you would've thought she cut him out of a magazine and glued him next to her.

"So, that's why you were in Seattle." she says as realization hit as you tell her the full story of how this opportunity came about.

You nod your head as she chuckles, "Edward was trying to take me to something fancy, I convinced him to let me eat there."

"Wow." you say.

You then change the subject, “What was your first impression of Edward?”

“Perfect.” she says with a blush.

“You both met a school?” you ask. She nods.

“What about you?” she ask as she jerks her head a bit.

You shrug as you shyly smile, “I thought he was out of my league to be honest.”

A small laugh comes out of her throat as she says, “No, same. I still wonder how Edward finds me interesting.”

“Come on, it’s easy. You’re a pretty girl with a…Pretty guy to match. I’m sure this isn’t your first rodeo.” You say to not let herself feel low standard.

She gives you a look, “He’s my first boyfriend. Plus, guys didn’t look my way. In places like Arizona and California, I’m just another girl.” she explains.

You raise your eyebrows a bit at this. Understanding the rush, “Paul’s mine as well. I guess we’re experiencing relationships for the first time…together.”

A small smile doesn’t leave her face, “Okay, I’m shocked at you. You’re so easy to get along with.”

You shrug.

"I still haven't forgot that you told me you were going to let me peak into your sketchbook."

"I didn't forget." you say you say sweetly and a muffled knock appears at the door.

"I'll be back." she says as she gets up. Not thinking anything of it, you stretch your legs out in her spot until she gets back. Except, she doesn't come back right away.

You move closer to the cracked bedroom door as you hear voices beneath you. Almost being a pro at eavesdropping, you don't let your footsteps touch the ground hard under you as you sit close.

"They're dangerous, Bella." you hear a male voice, almost sounding like bells chiming.

"Well, Y/N's not. She's human. Like me."

"Who's dating someone dangerous, Bella. Who loses their temper faster than we do." the voice says, in that same bell like voice.

It was entrapping, it made you want to hear him speak a long speech, knowing you would never get bored. It was unnatural.

"Edward, that’s not fair. Plus, you won’t even explain why."

"What wouldn't be fair is if something were to happen to you." he says and silence fills the air.

You brace yourself to move, thinking he must've figured out that you're listening in, but luckily, he continues, "I know you're a selfless person, but Alice has been dying to spend more time with you."

Hearing her frustrated and impatient sigh, "Edward, I like spending time with people who have the same interests as me. Being Barbie Bella is tiring." she says.

"I know. You can just talk to her." he says.

"I have. I seriously don't believe for a second that you think she listens."

Silence then trickles into the air again as you give up, not even letting your position be known. It seemed like as soon as you sat on the bed, Bella came back in.

"Who was that?" you ask her.

"Just Edward. Are you hungry? I went shopping this week." she says as if nothing happened.

Wanting to know if your curiosity serves you right, you nod. Following her down the wooden steps, the perfect male is sitting stiffly in the kitchen chair.

Glancing at Bella, she opens her mouth, "Y/N. Edward. Edward, this is Y/N."

It was as if he tried to figure something out, as you kept your eyes on him. You didn't say anything. It reminded you of the look of concentration that he displayed when you saw him and Bella in Seattle.

"Hello." he says politely, but something in his actions felt like he wanted to say more.

"Goodbye." you say and you turn to Bella, "I should get going."

"You just got here. Please." she says, her eyes screaming for you not to go. Her hand even takes the extra length to be placed on your arm as you try to turn on your heels.

Sighing, you hated being in uncomfortable situations. You definitely didn't sign up to be a third wheel.

"I'll just be in the living room." you tell her. She's pleased with this.

"Cool. I can um.. Start dinner for Charlie then." she says with a small smile.

Giving her a tight smile you drop it as your back is faced towards her. Flopping on the couch, you press the buttons on the remote. Not knowing what to put on, you just let Animal Planet run its course. You didn't have to think.

The narrator finishes up the showing of the son of a lion being kicked out of the pride. The melodramatic music begins as the son has no choice but to leave and wander along the edges of established territories.

"They do it. If there's potential competition." the melodic voice speaks out, you jump a bit as you didn't hear him come in the living room. Out of you peripheral vision, you catch a glimpse of him as he sits stiffly on the other end of the couch.

You could still hear Bella tinkering about in the kitchen.

"I would say cool but.." you say as you impatiently wait for the commercial break to end.

"All it is, is nature." he says back.

You take a quick look at him. You wished you didn't. The amber eyes stared back at you with so much focus, it was uncanny.

You look away. You weren't afraid. It was just unnerving. His gaze was both pierce and intense. You weren’t used to something like this since the first time that you met Paul.

“Your eyes.” you just say as you watch the screen advertise paper towels, in a volume that you know only he could hear. You said it with such obvious clarity. The last commercial smoothly transitioned into the next animal’s day in a life.

“What about them.” he says slowly but steadily.

“They’re a bit..” you say and then smirk but shake your head.

“They’re a bit, what?” he pressed on but still coated with detectable persuasion.

“Unusual.” you say square at him and watch as his lips purse a bit at this. His eyebrows wrinkle a bit.

You then take your eyes back to the television screen. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything with Bella right in the kitchen.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks with great curiosity as the animal’s day on the screen is paced slow.

“It’s an unusual thing.” you say as your eyes follow the vibrant colors of the safari scenery but to your surprise he chuckles a bit as he coolly says, “Hypothetically, you have something about yourself that’s unusual.”

You go silent as you just shrug him off. He then rises as Bella meets him halfway as she entered the room, her face filled with happiness to see him as she forgets her surroundings.

“Never again.” you sigh internally in your head as you rest your knuckle on your cheek as your arm rests on arm of the sofa. It almost felt more intrusive than Sam and Emily.

“I will leave you both be. Your friend is getting bored.” he says with humor but it was also as if he couldn’t wait to have something pinned on you. The smug smile that he tried to hide wasn’t unnoticeable to you. Bella just looked up to him with longing, but Edward held her close with such delicacy. It looked like a hint of a renaissance painting.

You didn’t expect the look of Edward’s face as he caught your eyes, the smugness slowly died down. It was as if he was reading or watching something in your eyes but you feel very unsettled, casting your glance to just Bella.

Bella then catches your eye and has a sign of remembrance as she then takes a shy hold of your hand as she walks you in the direction of the kitchen.

You felt safe in Bella’s grip but Edward’s eyes burned your skin. He literally watched you the entire way.

“Thank you.” you tell Bella as you politely take a baked treat of hers. She wanted you to try her dinner, but your stomach just couldn’t handle the heaviness of the food due to the lasting effects of Edward. A small desert was passable. It would let you buy time to think of responses if needed be.

She passed your welcomes and you both sit confortably at her table.

“He’s gone and I miss him already.” She says as she chuckles and nervously run a hand through her hair, “Is it like that with you and Paul?”

The fact that she acknowledged Edward’s absence, your tense shoulders dropped as you nod. It was true, you did miss him even at that moment.

Thinking of him, shuddered a wave of confidence through you. You were tired of tiptoeing.

“Do you both have a supernatural connection?” you ask.

She blinks as she looks at you with a wave of shock.

“Bella. It’s okay. I know Edward is not really human.” you carefully say as she still try to peddle through the river of denial.

She stutters out, “How? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You are so not leaving me here by myself in this world.” you say to her and it shuts her up.

Her face goes even as she then looks down and then around. She shakes her head a bit as she lets out a small breath, “So, is Paul..?”

You didn’t want to deep dive into his abilities with someone who was dating his opposition.

“Something of that sort. But promise me something please.” you say.

She nods.

“Don’t tell Edward that…I know.” you say.

She nods again but speaks, “He can’t read my mind anyway.”

You make a gesture of not knowing what she’s talking about. She makes it crystal clear. You then wondered, what did he see in your mind? It shouldn’t have been too much since you spoke out to him directly, but you just didn’t know for sure yet.

“Lucky you.” you say as she lightens her mood, feeling relaxed and at ease again.

“I feel like it’s good that we’ve met. I mean it’s nice to know someone who’s like me, a human, who just knows what it’s like to keep secrets. Especially, about stuff like this.” she says with great relief.

You give her a smile as she has her feel of gratefulness.

Her hand stayed on the steering wheel as she looked over to you. Not only did common interests overlap with one another, she liked having you around a lot. You felt bad about the idea of completely cutting her off.

“Text me.” she says as you push open her truck door.

“Okay.” you say back as your feet touched the pavement of the beach parking lot.

Sitting on the rocks, your mind wandered free as dusk began to settle in. You call Paul but there’s no answer. He’s still not home by the time you walk back.

You felt a sense of lonesome, the shower that you took didn’t soothe you. Stealing Paul’s pillow, you clutch it close to you as his faint smell of him dance in your nostrils.

It was very dark but there a luminary light that pushed your footsteps forward. Walking towards it, you felt a strong hand try to pull you back but one hand started to multiply. Soon, hands were trying their best to keep you from going into the light that you were walking in.

You woke up with such urgency, you almost didn’t notice Paul smushed into you. Sighing in relief and tracing your hand on his cheek, he stirs in his sleep. As you let your mind play a supercut of your dream, Paul’s eyes slowly but tiredly blinks open as he catches a glimpse of your unsettled demeanor.

Reaching to kiss your jawline, he makes sure that you’re okay.

You nit pick at the breakfast in front of you. Paul watched your movements without saying anything.

“I think I’m going to stay back.” you say to the silent air.

“What?” he says, as if you were crazy. You don’t say anything as you watch your breakfast instead of eating it.

“Look, you don’t have to take someone with you I was just-“ he starts, but you didn't like the way that his eyes showed how he blamed himself, you cut him off.

“It’s not about that. I don’t know. I just feel like….” you say but sigh out as your shoulders hunch a bit.

“What is it?”

“I really want you to be the one to come with me.” you just quietly say.

He takes your hand. “Believe me, I feel the same.” he says.

Your mind goes to thinking again. You really want to tell Paul that Edward has an ability. It scratches at your brain. You wondered if this was something that he knew. But, the millions of questions would come and he’s been trusting you more. If he found out that you were around Edward to know, things would go back to square one.

“I'm so fucking tired.” he comments. You look up and see that he’s telling the truth. The bags under his eyes show proof of his claim.

The hand that he still had in his, rose to up and your lips place a kiss on the back of his.

"Can we trade places?" you say to make him feel a bit better.

"No way. Let your passion be the only thing that stresses you out." he says seriously. He rises as he announces his departure. Crushing you close to him, you gladly drink him in to the point where he had to be the one to unwillingly pull away.

Sitting at the kitchen table, you doodled in your pad to blow off the thoughts in your head. Barely paying attention to the direction of your strokes. It wasn't until you reached for your eraser, is when you look at the small picture that you drew.

The eyes were very familiar and striking. You tear out the page as you crumble it tight and toss it in the trash. All it did was bring out the memories of what those eyes held. A certain face floated in your head so you tried your best to distract yourself.

Calling Emily, you find out that she’s home. You smile at this. Your smile fades when she then drops, "Kim is here."

Retracting your interest, "Okay, well, I guess I will talk to you later."

Hanging up with her, you figure fresh, cool air should help you take your mind off of things.

You walk outside, the wind blowing as you take your time with your steps. Headphones were snug on your ears as you listened closely to the lyrics. The song, you and Paul’s song, came on and soothed you. You both came a long way since then. Your mind travels as you sit on the cliffs.

As you let the piece of charcoal glide in your small booklet, a quote stuck out to you.

“Hypothetically, you have something about yourself that’s unusual.”

Whatever that means. But what did it mean? Was it just a get back for your comment? The color was unusual. But most of all, you felt frustrated that all you wanted to do was clear your head but your mind kept going back to your interaction with Edward Cullen.

You scribbled frustratedly on the page, cursing for him taking up the space in your mind. It started to slowly turn into bitterness. Even his smug demeanor that he displayed the previous day was even on loop. As badly as you wanted to shake him off, you just couldn’t.

Sliding your headphones off while they were leaking with music, you let out a deep sigh. You definitely weren’t going to stay here and miss out on leaving town.

“Can you please at least come for dinner? I haven’t seen you in so long :( “

You read Emily’s text as you made your way down the cliffs. You were there for a while. Not responding, you just walk to her home.

Opening the door, the aroma of the supper that she cooked, smacked right into you.

Her body soon followed as she hugged you tight. “It’s been so long!” she gushes, happy to see you. Hugging her back, you squeeze her to let her know that you missed her as well.

Sam says hello to you as you touch his shoulder in passing. Moving into the living room, you find Paul sitting on the same sofa as Jared.

Wrapping yourself up with Paul, Jared jokes how a hello to him would be nice.

“Sorry.” you replied with nervous laughter. You didn’t get a chance to talk much after, Paul’s finger guides your face to his as he gets a taste of you.

“The bedroom is that way.” you hear an unpleasant voice suddenly say.

Ignoring it, you didn't even notice Jared telling her silently to stop.

You rise as you take Paul’s hand with you to sit at the eating table next to you.

Thank goodness the conversation was light but you were still silent, besides laughing at Paul’s humorous remarks that he would throw out.

You stood at the sink as laughter was floating out of the living room. Taking the dish out of the soapy water, you began to scrub with a sponge as the headphones softly sang songs in your ears.

With the dishes done, you go into the living room to join everyone.

Your phone drops out of your pocket as you move to sit next to Paul.

Kim moves to pick it up, she steals a discreet look at the notification that came across your screen. This action goes unnoticed as she stretched her phone out to you.

As much as didn’t want to, you mutter out a thanks. Paul moves your body to plop you onto his lap.

“Congratulations, by the way. Paul told us about your upcoming trip.” Jared tells you with a supportive smile. You gladly tell him thanks.

“What trip?” Kim asks. You say nothing as Sam just says, “She’s been a graced a wonderful opportunity.”

“How come no one’s told me?” she questions but the looks that went her way let her know that she couldn’t have been serious.

“Because we didn’t.” Paul impatiently says to get to her to be quiet so he can focus back on the television.

She scoffs a bit as she says, “I’m sure she told Bella Swan all about it.”

“Are you serious right now?” Jared asks her. You felt a bit bad that he was feeling irritated. Noticing the slight change in his normal vibrant self, he seemed defeated and had no ounce of optimism left.

“I am. She drops me for some vampire lover. I’m offended.” she explains.

“Kim, if you’re not going to control yourself, you have to go. We’re choosing peace tonight.” Sam tells her.

Kim sits back with her arms folded like an immature child as the only thing that was left to be heard in the room was the action on the television.

You volunteer to fill the popcorn bowl to escape the tension. You missed being over here a lot and you tried your best to not let a certain someone ruin it for you.

You check your notifications and it was a proposition from Bella.

“My birthday is in a few days and was wondering if it could be just us if you’re still here. I don’t want to do anything over the top.”

You type back, seeing indeed that the month of September had arrived.

“I honestly would have to let you know.”

The microwave beeped as you pulled the hot bag out and carefully rip it open. You shuffle out the contents into the bowl and hold it as you make your way back into the living room.

You hand Emily the bowl as you let yourself fall gracefully onto Paul’s lap.

Paul’s hand had a mind of their own as the darkness hid him circling your belly. Leaning back further on him, you thought nothing of it.

His hips did one smooth shift as your body rolled with him, an electrifying feeling, shot through you.

It was a bold move as his hand never leave the spot he had it placed but you sit up a bit, still feeling him beneath you.

You catch a peak at his face when he stares back at you with audaciously.

“I think we’re going to head out. Paul could barely keep his eyes open.” you say as you watch his face slowly turns into a smirk.

“Aw? Already?” Emily asks crestfallen.

You “help” him up with your hand as he rises from his spot.

“You know the time for tomorrow, right?” Sam asks Paul.

Paul stretches his limbs out as he nods.

It was your turn to stretch the limbs of your arms. Your hands were filled with the wrinkled sheets that were tight under your grip.

Paul’s hands caressed the skin of your back as your body rocked back and forth on his sleek stiffness. It scraped deliciously in your insides as your breathe out as name. His grunts were heavy as he then whispered out, “Shittt.”

He pulls back and emptied himself on the sheets as his hand couldn’t catch all of himself.

As you fit a clean sheet on the bed, you speak out with mellowness, “We shouldn’t do it raw anymore.”

He takes a glance at you as he speaks back, “Why? You don’t like how it feels?”

A heated feeling in your cheeks scorched as you smooth out the side that you tucked, “N-no. I mean, I do.”

“Then what’s wrong?” he chuckles a bit as he tosses a pillow onto the bed.

“You almost came in me.” you tell him in a small voice, you both have been intimate many times but talking about sex with him still brought shy, fluttery feelings.

“I always pull out in time.” he says with confidence.

“It only takes one time. And you didn’t …One time.” you say as you remembered the time when you woke up to both of you still intertwined. You’ve never felt so amalgamated with him. As vice as it seemed, it felt so good.

“I can smell when you’re ovulating.” he says casually and lays back on his side of the bed, looking to you to join him.

“I just don’t.. Want any mistakes.” you tell him cautiously as you cover yourself with the large cover.

“Do you want any mistakes, someday?” He asks as he pulls you to snuggle against his warmth.

“I don’t know. At least, not now.” you tell him with gentle shrug. You then look to him to watch his face, which was full of contentment. “What about you?” you ask him.

“To be honest, yeah.” he says and you feel trapped in his gaze as the honest truth shone through. He then reached over to turn the lamp off.

Early the next morning, you decided to take it easy by staying in. It was raining hard and the wet leaves stuck to the sidewalk and the streets.

It’s been a while since you’ve used your good paint and just went to work on a wooden canvas that you forgot you had. Halfway through making the inchoate, rainy, autumn scenery, you’ve decided to give this as a gift to Bella.

After you spread clear varnish onto your work, you decided to check your email.

A subject message stops you dead in your tracks.

The name alone stopped you in your tracks.

ALICE CULLEN

SURPRISE PARTY INVITE !

Not even clicking on it, you scroll. There was just no way you were going that deep.

Clicking on another inbox message, John had sent your ticket. You check the dates and see that you’re going to be gone for an entire week. You’ve also seen that you were leaving two days after Bella’s birthday. Sitting back with your arms crossed, you look at her gift.

[lairofsentinel]

Since this user's posts seem to have been deleted in previous opportunities I copy-paste their words here because they express exactly what I feel about this game. Dragon Age has died, unfortunately.

I'm a big time Dragon Age lover and have enjoyed every game in the series. Personally, I think Inquisition is the best in the series. And I was excited for Veilguard right up until I actually began playing it. Now, I want to clear things up at the start as to what I look for and believe makes a good Dragon Age game. To start, I DON'T CARE ABOUT COMBAT. I. Do. Not. Care.

You can make it Origins tactical. DA2 fast tactical. DAI hybrid. God of War action, I don't care. Dragon Age has always had combat that was...fine. A nice distraction and breakup in between the bits I actually care about: narrative ROLEPLAYING, story, characters, and exploration. I don't give a crap how great the combat is if the narrative roleplaying and writing are poor, I'm not playing BioWare titles for amazing gameplay. I am here for the story, the characters, and the roleplaying. Truth is, for a time I considered DATV's combat to be the best in the series.

And this is why I feel the game is a terrible Dragon Age, because it lacks or fails to respect those elements concerned with narrative roleplaying, story, characters, and exploration. Now, in many reviews and online videos you'll hear some reference often to the drop in writing quality. And a lot of time people will incorrectly say that the writing with the characters is to "modern" or "Marvel quippy" or not "dark" enough. I think these people are wrong, they recognize there is a drop in writing quality from previous games but aren't able to articulate why that is.

Dragon Age has never adopted any sort of faux medieval speech and vocabulary (though we'll get into this more later). This is a series that used "epic fail" as a thing someone uttered in the very first game. It's always had anachronistic dialogue and banter. So why is it such a drop then? Why is it considered poor? Simple. This is a game that does not believe in the world it has setup for over a decade. It does not believe in or engage properly with its own world and lore. I mean, look no further than the title "The Veilguard" a phrase that is never uttered by anyone in our group, and further proof it was a last minute marketing change. Compare to Inquisition where the title is apparent from the start in the game and has actual meaning.

You see, characters in DATV do not feel or react to events the way they should based on the lore. Why is no one constantly asking what the hell the Inquisitor is doing? The Inquisitor is kind of a BIG DEAL when it comes to Solas and Elven Gods, my Inquisitor drank from the WELL OF SORROWS! So why are we sitting around thinking at the start, "hmm lemme think who I can contact who might know more." The Herald of Andraste! They know more Rook, the guy that is technically your boss. The Inquisitor! Who else have you been working for this entire time? Who do you think told Varric to recruit you?!

But even removing the Inquisitor, the Elven Gods being real and also near synonymous with the old Tevinter Gods is kind of a BIG DEAL. It was only a theory fans crafted long ago that slowly revealed itself to be true. And it completely upends known religious dogma on all sides. Yet, why aren't people we meet going through a massive existential crisis? For instance, the Veil Jumpers we initially meet were presumably told off-screen about Fen'Harel, and are seemingly cool with this massive knowledge alone. But then we talk about those two other Gods being released and they're like, "well, shit those two aren't good." As if they have any clue if the fables about those Gods are real when we previously just upended everything they thought about the Dreadwolf! Why are you acting like this is another Tuesday?! Your entire religion is wrong. In that same conversation, Strife notes "Solas might be a bastard, but compared to the Evunaris? Let's just say they weren't know for being kind rulers."

My brother in Anduril, what are you talking about! Elven religion teaches that Elgar'nan was so beloved by the Earth that it "the land brought forth great birds and beasts of sky and forest, and all manner of wonderful green things." And that he fought the jealous Sun that tried to burn the land and all beasts away. Custom says that he and Mythal, "created the world as we know it" after defeating the Sun. He is literally described as one of the "good" Gods. WHY ARE YOU ASSUMING HE IS EVIL! It's like finding out Satan is real, but not as evil as have come to believe and then being told Jesus Christ is back and a devout Christian going, "well shit, that can't be good." WHAT?!

The same goes for Andraste and the Chant of Light, it took me 30 hours of playing before ONE character mentioned Andraste and the implications with the Chant and it was never brought up again. Our entire party is seemingly made up of unphased atheists. Now compare to something like Inquisition which explored this aspect HARD and was amazing for it. You'd get into great debates with religious figures and party members about the implications of Corypheus actually being a Tevinter Magister of old. And you'd talk about what it means towards the religious dogma preached and how much is true. And these intense political and religious discussions are present in every previous game, and not confined to a single conversation with one party member where it is seemingly resolved.

These conversations do not happen in DATV because there is no depth to the writing or engagement with the world. The Elven Gods are evil and need to be stopped. That's it. We don't need to think about the implications this has on Dalish customs and religion. Fuck it, all the Dalish are going to still wear their Vallaslin slave brand tattoos. Let's forget about Trespasser implying Solas was removing them from followers coming to join him. Let's even forget they were likely all told at this point that they are slave brands, nope still going to wear them yet speak blasphemy with every sentence against our Gods. No one cares about Andraste or The Maker or the Chant. Big deal if these Elven Gods contradict the overwhelming majority religion in Thedas. Not a single party member has religious or cultural objections to killing the Elven Gods; not a problem. Not one single elf wants to join Solas in tearing down The Veil and getting immortality again?

Again, let's forget about Trespasser setting up Solas gathering MANY Elven followers from Dalish clans who would be super inclined to join him after experiencing CENTURIES of discrimination and slavery by humans. The better question is what Elves wouldn't join Solas at the start? And what Elves wouldn't look at the other two Gods and go, "meh, maybe we should give them a try. They can't be worse than humans, right?" In DA2 you had elves joining The Qun to escape the discrimination of humans, but not ONE ELF wants to join Solas or Elgar'nan? Those Ancient Elves in the Temple of Mythal? I guess they all died, right?

This extends to EVERY single element of Dragon Age that previously had depth to it, it now has been completely removed. Those murdering Antivan Crows? Oh, they're just good Italian Mob Family that protect their city. Tevinter? Yes, it has poor people, but we're trying to do better. Oh, slavery? No, no we don't show that here. The Qun? The what now? No, they are all Antaam now, and so that means they are all generic evil warlords. No, they don't even attempt to follow their own hardcore view of The Qun like when Templars split from the Chantry, they're just warlords now that like plunder. Dwarves and their rigid Caste society? We don't do that here. Elves and racism across Thedas? Elves used to experience racism? News to me, what's a Shemlen? Never heard of that term, we like all humans. Pirates? That is insensitive, we are Lords of Fortune and we are sure to return any cultural artifacts found to their rightful owners; it belongs in a museum after all. The fucking Fade and spirits? Wait, you mean its different than generic fantasy spirit world? I'm sorry, that's too complicated here.

This either intentional disregard of the lore or plain ignorance also extends to environmental design. The asset reuse from Inquisition is particularly hilarious and must speak to the developers not having time after the switch from MP. Why are the same statues found in Val Royeaux in DAI also in Tevinter and Antiva? Why are those stupid Fen'Harel Wolf statues EVERYWHERE? Even in the catacombs of other Elven Gods! There are no statues of Elgar'nan or Ghilan'nain. Nothing for June or Anduril. Dirthamen. Falon'Din. Nothing. No, the only Gods that seem to get statues are coincidentally the ones who already had assets created for DAI or past titles that could be reused. Hmmm.

This continues into character designs too, why do the Veiljumpers and Shadow Dragons all dress richly? They are supposed to be poor as fuck. There's a codex entry about Veiljumpers finding a lost cache of old ancient elven armor and weapons and so boom they all get to dress like High Elven Lords and not the dirty, poor, wandering Dalish clans they are supposed to come from. Why do this? There isn't even an attempt to explaining why the Shadow Dragons, an organization supposed to be secretive, has branded clothing in bright rich colors and fabrics for all members. Naturally, it must be incredibly difficult for Tevinter authorities to not identify them.

This lack of depth and verisimilitude, naturally, affects all the characters. Because in this game you cannot roleplay and you cannot ask questions. In Dragon Age Inquisition, once you started the game, you could immediately interrogate Varric about what happened to every DA2 character despite the Inquisitor never meeting them, you know because it respects its players. You could speak to shop keepers, blacksmiths, your horse master. You could interrogate every single person to learn more about them and the world. The same goes for your player character in DA2 and Origins. You show in Denermin and find yourself knee deep in a quest to help Wade the Blacksmith craft the perfect armor. Here you can't actually speak to a single shopkeeper to ask questions and get some lore bits. You can't ask party members questions about their background, religious beliefs, upbringing, their factions, etc. You can't ask any returning characters any questions either about what they've been doing. Enter a brand new area? Great, you're not asking anyone questions about this never before seen place.

How does a lost Dwarven thaig survive every single blight? How are their immortal lichs in Neverra? How long has that been a thing? Why haven't they told anyone about the Elven gods or any other knowledge they've accumulated in an immortal lifespan? If immortality is so "easy" why can't Solas just do that to restore the Elves? Why are the Venatori, Tevinter Supremacists, following Elven Gods? Wouldn't that be a major identity crisis? Why would Antaam, who still preach the Qun, follow an Elven God that speaks blasphemy with ever breadth? Sshhhh, no questions. You get what is directly told to you and that's it, no follow-up questions.

Party members do not conflict with each other or interrogate each other's beliefs which is why their banter feels inconsequential and meaningless. Lucanis is a assassin, he kills people for money. The same organization that marked Zevran for death for failing a contract. The same one that took him as a kid and trained him to murder, often brutally, for coin. And yet no one really seems to care. He's just a nice Italian assassin from a nice assassin organization. Who cares. Let's instead talk about cooking, at length. Harding, a devout follower of Andraste, has no qualms with Elven Gods wreaking havoc on known religion. We get one conversation you can tell her to believe what she wants, and that's the end of that debate. Bellara also gets about two whole conversations about the conflict concerning her Gods wreaking havoc, both easily resolved. We don't need to think about any larger implications or doubt her loyalty when the Elven pantheon are seeking to restore her people that have been discriminated against since forever. Emmerich, a necromancer of Neverra, apparently has no religious belief. A codex entry even states that those of the Mourn Watch don't know where the soul goes after death. They don't like to think about it. Buddy, Mortalitasi belief is literally that our souls return to the Void alongside The Maker, but to keep balance a exchange must be wrought with The Fade to allow a spirit to house the now empty vessel. How do you not know the religion and customs of your own faction and land? This man has a whole quest line about funerary rights, yet not ONCE mentions religion and what he believes happens after death?! Sshhhh, no questions. No thinking.

Hey, remember The Fade? Remember how mages go to dream there every night. Remember how The Black City is always visible there? No? Well, we don't either. You won't see The Black City in The Fade. You might see it in The Crossroads in a closed off section, even though it is NOT The Fade. Oh, we're going to have you physically enter The Fade in multiple quest lines and no one will think it's a big deal. No, you still can't see The Black City. Now, The Fade is reduced to nothing more than your generic fantasy spirit world. It has none of the previous rules and lore that bound it before. Demons can bind to non-mages and we won't attempt to explain it. Solas fucks with The Veil and not a single mage notices a change in their dreams when they sleep at night. No biggie.

Lastly, let's return at last to the actual minutiae of writing. I stated at the start the writing isn't bad because of Marvel quippiness, which the series has always had. I was partly lying. Yes, the series has always had anachronistic dialogue. It has had meme language in its own previous titles. But, it was just that, a small joke here and there. For the most part the series actually tried to use it's own sort of "older" speech patterns. I think a perfect example has to do with Taash, she eventually finds her own identity and declares she is proudly "non-binary." Literally stating, "so, I'm non-binary." I have no issue with this sort of inclusivity in Dragon Age, it's what the series is known for. Yet, why does that sound wrong? Simple, it's far too anachronistic. It doesn't belong in Dragon Age. In Inquisition, Dorian let's us know he's gay. But he doesn't say, "I'm gay!" or "I'm a homosexual" those terms would not exist in his world. Instead he says, "I prefer the company of men."

And it's these little subtle changes in writing that makes it feel all the more different. We went from "I once ventured in to The Fade to serve the Old Gods of Tevinter in person. I found there only chaos and corruption. Dead whispers. Now I shall return under no name but my own, to champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world gone wrong. Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the Gods. And it was empty."

To: "Well, shit. That can't be good."

So, what do we have when all is said and done? Well, we have a decent generic fantasy action game. An intentional attempt by the developers to remove every edge from the world of Dragon Age in place of a very simple, easy to understand world with not much depth beyond what you see. You don't need to think, just play and have fun. This is beyond turning a MP game into a SP game, which so blatantly obvious in this game. DA2 was developed in 16 months, but is carried strong by its writing. You see, nothing prevented them from just acknowledging their own world they created. It costs very little to write around what already exists. Even if you can't make no assets or redesign the world. Writing is cheap and having characters voice these elements is not as costly as a redesign. No, they chose to remove the edge in every element because this was design intentionally for the masses with easy to understand world and zero depth.

But I wanted to play Dragon Age. I wanted to get into intense religious debates with party members as known lore is completely upended. I wanted to debate Elvish clans deciding to join Solas or the other Gods due to their treatment by human society. I wanted to debate the ethics of necromancy with the Mortalitasi of Neverra's Crypts. I wanted to engage in intense debating with Solas on the ethics of his goal. I wanted to see Tevinter react to a real push for anti-slavery and actually see the slavery in the slave capital of the world. I wanted to butt heads with the Antivan Crows and call them out for the murderers they are. I wanted to see the Black Divine and debate the Chant of Light with them. I wanted to speak to the Archon of Tevinter and see how he felt about the Venatori's past efforts in Inquisition. Hey, what happened to Meredith Reborn in Kirkwall and her idol and Red Templar worshipers? Forget about it.

We got none of this. I got a game that is pretty much disrespectful of its own world. I waited 10 years for this? Why even bother if this is the result? They may as well have just killed every previous character we ever knew, including Solas, offscreen and started anew with this game. Because as a Dragon Age game and sequel, it's terrible and no returning character is how they should be.

And when we get to the ending, that's pretty much what they did. Everything you did in all the past games? Well, that was pointless. Everyone is probably dead. King Alistair. Gaspard. Celene. King Bhelen. The Arl of Redcliffe. The Divine. The Circle of Magi. The Templars. The Seekers. Everything, everyone, and every organization that existed in the South is likely dead and destroyed. And now Dragon Age can become what they wanted, a generic fantasy IP.

But I just wanted to play Dragon Age.

[minerpore]

so, finally deciding to share this with more people- (how long has this post waited in drafts? for a while fof sure-)

Monster4 be upon ye or smth nxhcjcjyd

yes, another AU-

basicaly, the idea is simple..

what if during IGBP the demonic keyboard not only posessed 4, but also corrupted his physical form?

(hchfgg gotta love how i basicaly kinda gave him the Rot, from Rain World-)

(i still haven't figured out how to draw leggies shaped like that, forgive me-)

have some hug art!

also i guess it (the art) partially inspired me to write a fic bit heh

(tags to give this ficlet? content warnings?: hurt/comfort, mentions of body horror? i'm not sure if it's a fitting tag [please let me now if it is or not], smg34, slightly suggestive if you squint i guess, brief thinking about eating someone)

***

How long it has been since the It's Gotta Be Perfect incident?

Weeks? Days? Months??

Four didn't bother to count.

All that time blurred into one thing anyways, a period of constant guilt and shame.

He couldn't even look at his reflection anymore.

He was a monster.

Literally.

That cursed keyboard not only took control over him back then, its powers managed to corrupt his physical form.

And it did not fade away, not even after the castle went down.

It hurt like a bitch when his legs deformed, thick tentacles sprouted from his back..

The claws were the least of his concern, unlike those strange cysts with "x"s on their surface.

They invaded most of the left half of his face, he also found out some have grown at the tip of his tail, and on his back..

Not to mention what happened to his-

No, he doesn't want to think about THAT.

The corrupted guardian had isolated himself from everyone, afraid of seeing them look at him in disgust (at least he imagined they would, and he wouldn't blame them..)

A loud growl snapped the youtuber from his thoughts.

He was so hungry.

He was ashamed to admit that his appetite could now rival Mario's(!)

Suddently his good ear registered the sound of approaching footsteps.

Four turned around to see his ex-enemy, partner.. Three.

Oh how nice and plump the guardian in purple looked, imagine just how delicious he'd taste-

WHAT THE-

Smg4 was terrified by himself, how could he have such a thought about his friend?! How disgusting of him..!

The guardian in blue quickly moved away, not wanting to risk him giving in to those thoughts.

His stomach hurt, and he began to feel nauseous.

Three stepped forward to get closer to the other man.

"What's going on dumbass? And don't pretend everything's fine, can't fool our cosmic link." the streamer said, avoiding eye contact. "Not like I care or anything! I just don't want the crew to constantly bother me over this!" a noticable blush formed on his cheeks in the typical Tsundere fashion.

Before Four could reply he got hit with another wave of nausea. Three either noticed or felt that, as it caused him to look back at his partner. "Dude, did you eat some weird mushrooms or something? You look like you're about to puke your guts out-"

The smg in blue chuckled weakly. "Nah, can't get sick from some bad food if you haven't eaten anything to begin with" he attempted to turn this whole situation into a joke. That's what he used to be good at, right? Making people laugh at dumb humor?

Smg3's eyes widen in shock, certainly not finding that amusing at all.

"Four, when was the last time you ate anything..?" He asked, fearing the answer.

The corrupted guardian gulped nervously. "Last time..? I think it was when I locked myself in my room.."

Three sighed in dissapointment, pinching the bridge of his nose, his tail swishing in annoyance.

"Of course... Alright scrub, wait here, I'm getting you some proper meal. And I won't take 'no' for an answer!"

Four only nodded lightly, he didn't plan on leaving anyways.

And so he waited, scrolling through his phone in the meantime.

After a solid while the guardian in purple returned, carrying big bags of food.

Smg4 watched as his partner took all the contents out, setting them down so Four would't have to dig through the bags.

The guardian in blue and white rushed towards the food, soon devouring it like a starving animal. However he did notice Three looking at him with a certain kind of hunger in his eyes.

But it was a brief moment, as Smg3 quickly turned away from him once he saw Four's gaze and picking up a burger for himself.

Once satiated the youtuber sighed in content, laying on his side (as he found it uncomfortable to lay on his back now, due to the tentacles).

Ohh it felt great to have a full stomach like that.

"Four, I.." Three started.

The streamer sat down not far away from his partner. "Look, I know how it feels like to have your body corrupted, mashed with whatever eldrich shit that keybo-" he was suddently cut of by the guardian in blue.

"BUT THIS IS DIFFRENT! YOU ACTUALLY GOT YOUR NORMAL BODY BACK! Meanwhile I'M stuck as this.. abomination!"

Three moved in front of his soulmate, then cupped his right cheek.

"Four, listen to me. I don't find you disgusting in this form, alright?? You're actually kinda hot- WHO SAID THAT-" The guardian in purple quickly covered his mouth to avoid saying more (TOTALLY UNTRUE) things (he DID NOT!) think about 4!

The corrupted guardian looked at him wide-eyed.

"What I MEANT to say is-! It could have been worse! Like, you didn't become a twig or something-" Smg3 attempted to "correct" himself.

Smg4's body tensed up as he felt arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug.

The feeling of Smg3's warm body touching his brought him a sense of comfort.

"Four, I... Remember what I said? We're friends.. So what if you look diffrent now? It's not like we never got redesigned! So what if you have those kinda goopy.." Three swallowed hard before continuing "Thick tentacles..? So what if you're.. the way you are now.."

The corrupted guardian felt tears form in his eye.

"I'm not leaving your side, whether you like it or not.." Smg3 said with a fond smile on his face. "And that's a threat!~"

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- It's Been A While [III]

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➸ INTERESTS; -mha!shouta aizawa x quirk-using!freader

➸ BACKGROUND; - after an attack at the high school you studied in, you were requested by your work firm and the firm of that school to work as a teacher there for extra security, incase an attack were to occur again to protect the students (and teachers). Unfortunately, it won't be as easy as you expected when you rekindle with old friends, and a specific someone.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 4.5k, romantic tension, traumatic disturbances, mentions of medications, bad health history, hallucinations, little bit angsty, haunted by the past, sexual tension, shaking, indecisiveness, confusion, etc.

➸a.i; - its 6am i sleep, also posting the masterlist for the series whenever I wake up, it should be updated on all of the chapters sooner or later this afternoon (also ik the chapter is so long im sorry i was bored) !!

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♡/♛- It's Been A While [ II ]

♡/♛- It's Been A While Masterlist

You sighed as you placed the textbook you were reading back down on your desk your students rushed out of your class. The last bell of the day had rung, and it also seemed like the deadline for your answer to the question Shouta had asked you prior.

His words still rang in your head, you kept both of your hands over the sides of your head, thinking. There was no way you could reject his offer, but there was also no way you could accept it either. Luck was barely on your side knowing that whoever broke into your apartment didn't know your schedule had changed, you couldn't put others in danger.

If anything considered from the heads up your boss had given you last night, whoever or whatever they were must have been after you for two reasons: your status within the embassy, or your quirk. The second reason made much more sense to you however, because if they had wanted you for your title, they would've come to see you much sooner.

Now was a horrible time to even think about or do such a thing, especially since you had to drug yourself up over prescribed medications to even keep your powers and emotions at bay. It's easy for someone to use you for your powers rather than status, honestly that's what you liked so much about the embassy, you barely had to use your quirk.

No one even knew about your quick use of medications to keep yourself at a low after so many losses from your powers. Each time you convinced yourself they were accidents, and honestly, they were, but the number of nightmares you had about the occurrences said otherwise.

Now with everything hitting you all at once you had the option to move in somewhere secure, somewhere safe. You knew Shouta and you knew he was someone who could take care of you, and himself. He was a pro hero for fucks sake, one of the best at that, it can't be as dangerous as you think if you were to accept his offer.

Maybe it'll be a good thing, maybe just maybe this is one of the only opportunities I'll have at being happy or seeing things on the bright side after having such a shit week. Plus, you didn't have to keep paying in cash to stay longer than you intended at the hotel you were planning to stay in.

You stood up from your seat, collecting your belongings from your desk and placing them in your work bag. Determined to find Shouta to speak with him about his offer, unexpectedly you hear a knock coming from your opened doorway to find him standing there.

"Hey" you said softly, glancing back at your desk and grabbing your phone, seeing you had a message. You only turned it off, thinking to yourself you'd answer it later as you placed it in your pocket.

"Hey, I was just stopping by to see if you made up your mind about my offer, it still stands." He replied, his voice heavy as he watched your movements, both of his hands now in his pockets. You looked back at him, now taking him in fully.

He had gotten a lot taller from when you two were this close, of course that was back in high school before you had left. If anything, if you had gotten closer to him, he might as well have towered over you. You only smiled at him and nodded as you threw your bag over your shoulder, placing your hands in your pockets as well.

"I was actually just on my way to go see you about that actually." You began, scanning his face for any reaction from the first half of your statement, only to see nothing but him nodding. "I accept your offer, but I'm not sure I'll be able to thank you enough for it, I have a lot to bring though." You stated, placing a hand out of your pocket and pointing behind you with a smile.

You said softly, you weren't sure if it was the bandages pressed against his collarbone and lower chin that made him put his head down, but you could've sworn he was smiling just now. He'd do that all the time since you two were children, hiding whenever he smiled or laughed, it's good to see that most things haven't changed.

It's almost funny really, how just a few days ago he seemed like he hated you. Was doing everything to avoid you or even speak to you, acting like the grinch almost, and here he was now, with you, smiling because you accepted his offer to move in with him temporarily.

"If it's your bags being too heavy, I can always help you with them and anything else you're bringing. I have plenty of space so you can put your things where you want." He spoke softly, now taking a step towards you, if you were to even move back you would've hit your desk.

You stood your ground and eyed him as he made his way towards you, you only nodded in response. Now gripping on tightly to the bag that weighed down on your shoulder. Your eyes met with Shouta's constantly within seconds, the tension between the two of you becoming thicker with each glance, as you stepped around him to leave you paused.

"If you send me the address to your place I'll stop by later tonight with my things, I need to pack." You said, not even turning to look at him. You needed to get out of that room, and it had to be quick, whatever it was he saw in you to look at you the way you did made you scream internally.

"I don't think I have your new number..." he said as he turned around and watched your state, it's almost as if you could feel him raise a brow, but you didn't dare to turn around and look him in the eyes again.

"My number never changed" you said simply, now turning to the left as your heels clicked. You made your way down the hallway towards the exit and into the parking lot, digging in your pocket to get your car keys. The entire moment the two of you just shared replaying in your head over and over without fail.

As you unlocked your car and took your bag off your shoulder you chewed on your bottom lip. Tossing your bag in the passenger's seat as you sat in the driver's seat, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.

This was going to be much more complicated than you expected.

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You scratched your head as you looked at the way you placed your bags within the trunk of your car. It looked so disorganized, but frankly you were too tired to fix them any better, the car ride would've been bumpy regardless, so it didn't matter too much. Just as you were going to close your trunk, your phone vibrated.

You reached in the back pocket of your jeans and pulled it out, seeing a message from Shouta and the person who had messaged you earlier in the afternoon. You closed your trunk and made your way to the driver's seat, locking your car as you sat in the parking lot of the hotel you stayed the night at. Now unlocking your phone and going to messages you saw the message underneath Shouta's from an unknown number, you rose a brow before opening it.

[XXX-XXX-XXXX: I won't let you forget about what you've done to our family]

You felt a twist in your stomach as you read it, already knowing who it was from, one of your old 'accidents' that occurred right after high school. The one that caused you the most grief and nightmares from the tragedy, and the same one that made you quickly cut the deal from being a pro-hero and working full time for the embassy.

Without a second thought you quickly blocked the number, sucking your teeth as you slumped into the seat, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You quickly swallowed your emotions as you remembered you hadn't answered Shouta's texts, quickly opening it and reading his message.

[Shouta :) : Hey, here's the address XXXX Main St, XXXX ****. Be safe on your trip here, I'll be waiting outside to help with your bags]

You smiled at his text, looking in your rearview mirror at the bags piled up in the trunk. You shook your head and chuckled softly, only hearting his message and pressing on the address that was underlined. It took you straight to the maps app and you followed your GPS to his place, as you followed it you played music from your favorite playlist on the way.

As you got closer and closer to the destination of his place you began to think how it would be. Was it just a two-bedroom apartment or was it something large and cozy like your own apartment. It must depend on the salary he's getting as both a pro hero and as a teacher, in all honesty you had no idea.

He didn't seem like a huge person on decorations or huge flashy things, so you didn't expect much, but when you drove through in the neighborhood you weren't expecting to see such a nice grey tone looking house. When your GPS told you that this was your destination you blinked out of confusion, looking back at the numbers on the house then your phone.

It wasn't wrong, this was definitely your destination, you just weren't expecting all of this. You shook away your thoughts and pulled into the driveway before seeing the garage open as you shut off the car after parking it. As you opened your car door the garage opened fully, revealing Shouta.

Honestly if you hadn't been paying attention you wouldn't have suspected it was him, he looked entirely different than he did a few hours ago. He was built, and you meant it, he was wearing all black, black sweatpants and a black wifebeater. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail as he kept one hand in his pocket, raising the other one to wave at you.

Thank goodness he did wave at you, because it snapped you out of the little trance you were having of him. There's no way he was hiding all of that in the outfit he wore on the daily with his students and at night on his patrols. As you waved back at him and closed your door to make your way to your trunk you still couldn't wrap your head around it all.

Lost deep in thought you weren't even aware that when you opened your trunk, he was already making his way right behind you. Before you could reach for the first bag in the back his hand grazed yours as he picked it up, then picked up another and threw it over his shoulder.

Your head sunk down slowly as your breath hitched, not wanting to make this more awkward than it already was. You slowly made your way to the side and picked up two much smaller bags and turned to him as he cocked his head to the side, pointing to the house.

"Just follow me and I'll show you where your room is" he said, looking at you, you looked back to the car with a nod quickly. There was no way in hell you two were about to start yet another staring contest, especially now of all times.

As you followed him inside you got a nice view of the house, well the inside anyway, everything was nice and clean. It was honestly pretty bland inside, no sheer pop of color or decors, just furniture that was a sort of marble grey. Anything you could look at or pay attention too other than the handsome sculpted man in front of you would've sufficed.

As you walked down the hallway, you heard him speaking of you having the room entirely to yourself, and the bathroom was just to the side of it. You only hummed in response to his statement as your mind continued to wander, until a sudden question popped up in your head.

"Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?" You asked, your question quickly followed by a yawn, to which you covered your mouth with the back of your hand. Shouta placed your bags down in your new room, it was big to say the least, neat and empty. The bed sheets were a tan kind of color, sand almost, along with a cream-colored blanket.

"What do you mean?" He asked, now turning to you and raising a brow as you placed your bags down on your bed, looking around the room to see where you'd place most of your belongings. You looked up at him, taking a glance at his face before walking over to the dresser that was in front of your bed.

"When we first bumped into each other you looked at me like you hated me, now we're here." You said carelessly, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you toyed with your hair for a little, looking over to see him in the mirror as he crossed his arms.

"I've never hated you" he said honestly, you now turned to look at him, in the eyes this time. Seeing the same look he had before, a look of sadness and sorrow. You only hummed in response yet again before opening the empty drawers to your dresser and looking inside them all, planning which draw would hold what.

You only left the room in one swift movement and made your way back to your car and grabbing your last two bags along with your work bag. You closed the trunk as you locked the car and began walking back inside.

Whatever answer he just gave you when you were inside didn’t answer your question, you hated how he always beat around the bush. Now you were too tired to argue or pry to get an answer that you wanted from him, you only returned inside through the garage to see him standing in the hallway waiting for you. Without exchanging any words, he just came over to you, taking the bags from your hands in one swift movement and walked into your room, placing them with the others.

“Thank you” you said, removing your phone and keys from your pockets and placing them on your nightstand by your bed. Shouta only shook his head at your words.

“No need to thank me, follow me so I can show you around” He spoke, now exiting your room and pointing down the hall for you to follow him. You followed behind slowly, turning your gaze back to the walls and floors now, not wanting to look at him knowing how easily your mind wanders.

You wondered how he felt about you, honestly it couldn’t be anything bad, he had offered for you to live in his house after hearing of your problems. Even though things ended rocky between the two of you and started again off to a strange start here you were, pushing everything to the side as he gave you a personal house tour.

You couldn’t even call this fate, as of right now you had no idea what it was, but whatever it was made you more curious than ever. As the small tour came to an end Shouta had shown you practically everything. The kitchen, living room, his bedroom and your bathroom, it wasn’t a lot, but it could be, his home was spacious, and you liked that.

He had even cooked apparently, and you complimented it too. His food was good and honestly you were surprised when he first told you, not expecting him to be the cooking type. Soon after you helped him clean up and stood around as you watched him.

Not to mention to your surprise you felt something pet against the heel of your feet, startling you as you quickly turned around. You were met with a small black cat, meowing at you softly before repeating the same action as before. You only smiled and relaxed, bending over to pet it, your back now facing Shouta.

You grinned as you called it pet names as you continued to pet it before picking it up and reading the collar. ‘Yoyo’ you read and laughed, knowing there was no way Shouta could’ve named her.

“This was definitely Nemuri’s doing, I think you’re more creative than this.” You laughed turning to Shouta, who was dangerously close to you. Your arm had brushed up against his chest and you knew better than to move. You only turned all of your attention back to Yoyo, as if you hadn’t realized what happened.

“Yeah, it was, I wasn’t sure what to name her, but I had help” he replied, placing his hand on the back of his neck and holding it gently as he sighed. You gave Yoyo a small kiss and hug before placing her down back on the floor and standing up again.

Without thinking you turned around and face planted into Shouta’s side, immediately pulling back and apologizing as you held your head. He only shook his head and apologized as well, placing a hand on your shoulder asking if you were alright. You only nodded and drew your shoulder back, feeling dizzy at the feeling.

He smelled good, too good, like one of those really nice colognes that would catch your attention whenever you went shopping and passed by the men’s section. You were snapped out of your trance when it seemed for a split second someone was standing behind him.

You immediately darted your head to the side, only to see the figure disappear as you frowned. You just brushed it off and turned into the kitchen, checking the time. As you counted how many weeks it had been in your head.

8:36pm

You were late to take one of your medications, your alarm had probably been going off for a while now and you weren’t even aware of it. Thankfully you had already eaten so you didn’t have to worry about taking it on an empty stomach.

“I have to go, I’ll uh, I’ll be back” you said with a pause, quickly turning around and making your way back to your room. You quickly shut off the silent alarm that had been ringing on your phone for nearly an hour before grabbing your keys and heading outside.

As you unlocked your car and climbed into the passenger seat to open the glove department you saw a shadow in the rear-view mirror. You turned around slowly only for the figure to yet again disintegrate from your view. You took a deep breath and searched for the bottle you were looking for amongst the junk in the department box, ending your search when you found a bottle labeled ‘Risperdal’.

As you cleaned up and closed your glove department box and locked your car you quickly walked back inside. The figure appearing beside you yet again, muttering whispers to you as you ignored it and made your way back to your room digging in your bag.

Your pill cutter where is your pill cutter. You’re prescribed to only take half of the full number of milligrams the pill had and unfortunately you had already taken the other left over half 3 weeks ago. It was surprising to you almost, you had never taken them so close together before, things like these were only monthly occurrences, but it was getting worse.

You sighed to yourself out of frustration as you couldn’t find what you were looking for, your grip on your bottle tightening as the faceless figure taunted you, practically laughing at you through a mouth it had grown out of nowhere.

You made your way back to the kitchen, embarrassment hitting you as you realized you had one of two options. Either hoping Shouta had a pill cutter around somewhere or using a knife to cut it yourself.

He raised his head as he looked up at you after drying his hands when he finished the dishes. Smiling at you softly before seeing something in your hands and raising a brow as you wet your lips and parted them.

“Hey um, do you have any pill cutters?” You asked quietly, but loud enough for him to hear, he slowly made his way over to you. He opened the cabinet beside your head filled with medications, as he reached to the top shelf and got a green pill cutter and placed it on the counter.

He then made his way over to his fridge and got a cold-water bottle, placing it next to the cutter. The entire time he kept his eyes on you, only that you weren’t looking at him, more or less something behind or around him had your attention.

Your eyes trailed on the figure that now morphed into a teenage girl, one who you had known well in high school. She went around and teased you laughing at Shouta as she grinned at you sinisterly as she spoke, you couldn’t hear what she was saying as it all came out as whispers. You knew it wasn't her though, the way her body was so deformed, and her face was twisted proved it was all in your head.

You then looked over to the pill cutter, placing the pill bottle in your hand on the counter before opening it quickly. Then opening the water bottle, shaking slightly as you did so before placing a pill within the tiny machine on the counter.

The girl had now made her way over to you as you placed the device in your hand, clamping your hands down on the button attempting to cut the pill. The more and more she whispered to you and placed her hands on your shoulders the more you trembled, your vision clouded with tears as you chewed on your bottom lip.

Within seconds you felt two large hands overcoming your own, and a firm chest being pressed against your back as you heard a click from the pill cutter. You gasped softly as you were snapped out of your trance for a short while as Shouta took the pill cutter from your hands.

He soon opened the device and took the left half of the pill with one hand, his other one rested on your shoulder. There was absolute silence between the two of you, the only thing making noise was you, your breathing was ragged. He paused as he read the label of your pill bottle, frowning softly before turning his attention back to you.

“Can I trust you to take it yourself or do you need my help?” He asked softly, his body still pressed against yours, you only shook your head in response. You only kept your head down and turned around slightly, the whispers of before echoing in your mind.

Shouta hadn’t said anything else, he only lifted your head slightly, his hand grabbing your jaw softly as he looked at you. It’s as if you weren’t even there with him, looking over the side of his shoulder, your mouth still agape. You watched as the deformation of the girl disappeared, her laughter leaving a trail behind.

He took the pill and placed it at your lips, his fingers brushing against your lips focused your attention on him, your eyes now locked with his. You parted your lips even more now, letting the cut pill go past your lips and hit your tongue, the taste bitter as your eyes never left his.

Your eyes were watery was his first thought, the same way they always were whenever you were about to cry. For as long as he knew you it had been that way, you’d squint slightly before letting your eyes water and cry, and he hated it.

He hated how conceited you were, especially with him, and now it hadn’t seemed like things had changed much. Even now, years later you were taking on way much more than you could chew, and he always blamed the embassy for it.

The two of you broke eye contact as you were the first to turn around, placing a hand on his chest to push him away softly so you could reach for the water bottle he had gotten you before. You quickly chugged the bottle two thirds of the way down, the bitter taste still in your mouth as you placed the bottle down.

The hand you had on Shouta’s chest hadn’t left, he grabbed it softly, tugging you towards him as you turned around again. You looked at his face, hinted with disappointment and possibly anger as he saw your gaze.

“Y/n. Risperdal? What has happened since you joined the embassy?” He said, now bending slightly to reach your eye level, his hands not leaving your arms. You had heard him, but his words weren’t as loud as the whispers that were still echoing in your head before you spoke.

“I’m fine, I took it too late” you replied slightly, ready to push him off of you, but his grip only tightened, pulling you in closer. You’re too close to one another, way too close. You weren't sure if your thumping heartbeat was getting louder from the way he held you or the sounds ringing in your mind, but you didn't like it.

Even through the haze of what you’re going through you can tell that this was wrong, even though it felt good, and it made you feel warm inside. You shook your head and pushed him off of you successfully this time as he left you go.

“I said I’m fine.” You repeated harshly, glaring at him as you watched his sad expression quickly turn angry, glaring back at you in return. Your hand clammy as you squeezed it open and closed again. There was no need for him to care so closely to you as he had before, you two weren't together anymore.

“You’re still a shitty liar, I guess you haven’t changed since when you left.” He responded harshly, you looked to the side and thought back to when you left initially years back. Your expression softening as you took a breath and stopped clamming with your hand.

You only excused yourself and bid yourself goodnight, practically speed walking back your room before slamming the door behind you. Taking all preparations and moving your bags to the side as you got ready for bed, laying underneath the covers with your earphones in listening to your music as you tried to tune out your thoughts before drifting to sleep.

Maybe you were right about putting Shouta in danger by living here, but the danger wasn’t from the outside or whoever was after you.

The danger was you.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆˚｡

Taglist: @getoisinnocent

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[canidbld]

Feraveli: Tiktok and the "Therian Aesthetic"

Content warnings: oveuse of the word aesthetic (chat I am NOT a thesaurus 🙏), general ramble shenanigans, and it takes a bit to get to the point (very sorry)

Words: 1.9k

— Day 2 of Sol's November Writing Challange

Tiktok has been downloaded onto my phone since 2020, and I've been in an off and on dynamic with the app. There were periods where I'll be addicted to scrolling for months and moments where I'll just go cold turkey for equal amounts and in the time I've had the app, there's a lot of things I've learnt like what the app is about, how it works, why the algorithm is the way it is and why trends become trends and the users who make up the app. Not to say I completely understand the app at all, most of my opinion on tiktok are just patterns I've noticed which resulted into an assumed conclusion with no real backing and support other than a "I've had tiktok for 4 years"

In my opinion, Tiktok is an app that encourages consumerism and wants people to conform to a single box label and aesthetic and lifestyle, essentially encouraging you to make yourself a brand and it's because of the way the algorithm works. According to my boyfriend, the more you intensely focus on one certain niche, aesthetic, community or singular type of content, the more your account will be advertised to your desired audience/demographic that post or consume similar content. You can do things like following people who match the "theme" of your account, reposting content similar to what you want to post, liking and commenting on said posts as well and following and using hashtags that connect you to the content you want to make. All these actions, while necessary to build somewhat of a platform on the app, create a bubble at best and an echo chamber at worst. Everything you do on tiktok is anaylsed by the app to curate the "perfect" for you page (FYP) of all your interests and most content creators on tiktok are aware of this, that's why you see people who are stacked with merch of their favorite anime or why there are accounts who just post edits for a single franchise/character or people who post outfits under a single aesthetic.

The more you visually and materially show how dedicated you are to an aesthetic, franchise or community, the more people will see your theme and they'll follow you, want to be and look like you and then start buying products similar to the aesthetic you're advertising.

It's an app that's known to water down sub-cultures and aesthetics to the point that the origins and themes of these concepts become almost obsolete, favoring visual aesthetics over the true meaning of the sub-culture. Goth and Scene, for example, are one of the more obvious examples. Part of the reason sub-cultures with history dating back decades ago get so warped is due to the way the algorithm works and how tiktok and its users profits off of niche aesthetics and communities.

So, what does this have to do with therianthropy?

Tiktok therians have been a bit of a topic in the community. Talks of how tiktok is filled with misinformation and how the therians of tiktok just focus on the visual aspects of therianthropy rather than the experience. I've read from a lot of therians that were active during the 90's and 00's and the 10's that talked about how different therianthropy has evolved since back then when you could connect with other therians through forums and the era of essays that profoundly described their experiences about being a therian and the deeper meaning of what that meant to them.

For tiktok therians, on the surface, it seems the experience of being a therian is branded as making masks and doing quadobics. It's all tiktok constantly regurgitates. The "aesthetic" of being a therian is someone who wears masks and has those clip-on tails. It's being connected to nature and running and frolicking around in pretty meadows and exploring lush dense forests. Its muted greens and earth brown tones. It's the "therian bedrooms" with the fake leaf decor and the masks and tails hung on the wall. It's the slow-motion tiktoks of people doing quadobics.

What came with this aesthetic and branding came with tiktok pushing this content out to the millions of people who used the app and would come across these videos. Some of the people who saw these videos, who had no idea what therians were, would be introduced into a community that they wanted to participate in and so more people would post more content under this "aesthetic"

The aesthetic, of course, came with its downsides. The major focus on the the visual imagery of therianthropy would result in very little talks about the experience and introspection of being a therian and even less on the history of the community. Like I said earlier, tiktok can create a bubble and the therians who awakened through the app very rarely research past the tiktok search function which has resulted in a lot of misinformation and old debunked discouse rehashed passing through the algorithm like wildfire.

There has been efforts to push back against the misinformation through accounts that do talk about the history of the community and educate the therians on the app but the ratio between quadrobics and educators is unbalanced with quadrobics accounts being more in quantity. Doesn't help that tiktok favors quadobics content more, leaving the accounts that try to educate and talk more deeply about therianthropy and alterhumanity as a whole with little reach and a small platform. Even more is that some of the accounts that try and educate sometimes spread misinformation themselves.

Now, I want to add a disclaimer. You can absolutely enjoy quadobics and wearing masks, and not every therian is responsible for educating others when the resources for it can be found through Google. You don't need to explain your experience as a therian, you can just simply enjoy being a therian in however you express that and if it's through quadrobics and masks then you are just as valid and important as the therians who originated from alt.werewolf.horror.

The problem is how tiktok conflates this aesthetic of therians with the experience and identity of being one and makes it as if this is all the community is when it's not an accurate representation of the community as a whole. Honestly, it doesn't even touch the tip of the iceberg of therianthropy.

So when I came across an account that had recently coined the term "Feraveli," I instantly latched onto the label because I saw the potential in how important it is.

Feraveli was created in October 2024 and is coined by Solar (also known as @hellhoundtherian on tiktok). The summarised definition of feraveli is:

"People who enjoy the aesthetics of nature and animals"

Its a simple enough definition, made to be simple on purpose so people could build upon it themselves. This could mean liking certain habitats like forests or oceans or the dessert and the animals that inhabit them. It could mean liking concepts like the aesthetic of night and nocturnal animals. It could mean liking the mesozonic era of the past and liking the dinosaurs and animals of those times.

The term was coined to actually give a name to the tiktok therian aesthetic and that's why I think it's important for the term to exist because being able to give the aesthetic a name is the first step to being able to separate it from the experience and the therian identity as a whole. I believe that the term will give others the vocabulary neccesery to make it more easier for therians and alterhumans in general to vocalise more about their experiences allowing for more introspective conversations about how they feel versus the visual aspect of their identity. But more importantly, the term isn't just meant to be a term synonymous with alterhumanity. The term allows room for non-alterhumans to participate in the aesthetic without having to use nonhuman labels due to misunderstandings and misinformation.

Otherpaw is also a term that exists for similar reasons, to separate the aesthetic from the identity. The difference, I find, is that people who use the otherpaw label very rarely also identify as therians because they like the aesthetic of quadrobics and masks rather than actually identifying as an animal. Feraveli can also be that, but it's a term that wants to be explored and expressed rather than letting itself have a restrictive and rigid definition.

Feraveli can just be as simple as liking nature and animals but it can mean so much more than that to others who label themselves as feraveli.

In the feraveli carrd, Solar describes the different ways feraveli could be expressed, such as:

Dressing up as your chosen feraveli aesthetic (forest, nighttime, ocean) in whatever clothes you think represents that aesthetic

Decorating your room in items and trinkets and decor you think matches the vibe of your chosen feraveli aesthetic

Adopting other aesthetics and meshing it together with being a feraveli if it helps you express your feraveli aesthetic, such as taking aspects of fairycore, if you think it helps you express the vibes of the forest more

From an alterhuman perspective, I think feraveli can help other alterhumans express their alterhumanity more easily. For example, a bat therian who is a night feraveli, a fictionkin whose feraveli aesthetic matches the environment of their fictotypes media source or a robot kin that has a feraveli aesthetic centered around sci-fi and machines or even horrorkin who finds a feraveli aesthetic in environments like silent hill / foggy spooky areas. It's a lovely sandbox term, I think, that really thrives on creativity and expression more than anything and I'm so thankful the term exists.

For me, I'm a city and suburban feraveli. I like the aesthetics of the city and suburbs as I feel like it resonates with my canine theriotype. Both feravelis make me think of stray dogs and cats patrolling the streets which makes me feel euphoric when I picture myself as that. I express this feraveli type through dressing up more grunge and baggy because I think the style represents the vibes of the city. I wear blacks and grays for the same reason and created a playlist of songs that I think fits the aesthetic of the city. Another reason I feel so connected to these aesthetic feraveli types is because I also grew up and lived in these environments. I could talk about my personal feraveli more but I'd need more time to see what feels right for me under this label.

The term was coined recently, after all. Created only a month ago, not nearly enough time for the term to have solidified a culture for itself, but the beginnings of a community have sprouted on tiktok, and I hope that it continues to grow. It's exciting, to be honest, with feraveli being a newly created term to me. I'm excited to see the potential of it evolve like so many other terms such as copinglink, folcintera, and even the label therian itself as it has also evolved over time throughout the community. I'm even more excited to see and read potential essays about how others express feraveli and what the term means to them. I'm just excited to see how feraveli grows, and I hope anyone reading this will give feraveli a chance and incorporate the term towards themselves.

Feraveli carrd

Original coining post

Solar's (@hellhoundtherian) tiktok

[snoopyee]

Alright gang (i say to my tiny following)

I’m cooking up some emotionally constipated ghost right now and i want opinions. I was originally planning to add in my oc (since it’s kinda a whole story i have between them) but i dont know if people will enjoy that ( I promise she’s not one of those weird oc’s)

I could also run with a sort of x reader type beat (the use of you, your, etc) with a slight influence of the lore and background of my oc and her callsign. Of course no overly physical description (i promise i will try not to, its my first time really writing) but i did want some opinions.

I dont know if im big enough to even have people religiously checking my page, but sorry for not posting— classes have been a bit hard

i love everyone who has liked and reblogged my art 🥹❤️ ive been really shy to post it and i appreciate the love

[1toreyouapart]

What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

Part 5 - Noah

Noah laid there in his bed, the only light coming from the screen of his phone. The only sound in the room the old videos he kept watching. It was all that kept him going when sobriety got to be a little too difficult. And right now, it was hard as fuck. Until the other night nobody outside of his therapist had known just how much he despised himself for the shit he had put Lilith through in the end. And now he had gone and blurted it out like a fucking idiot. Such a fucking idiot. So, rather than relapse he was going to watch these old videos as many times as it took until the anxiety passed.

Listening to her laughter, seeing the way her eyes crinkled just a bit at the corners when she smiled, in and of itself was its own form of mental torture, but God, did it help keep the urge to drink away. A reminder of what life was like before the one or two drinks every so often turned into three or four most nights of the week. Then getting blackout drunk most nights of the week. Soon it was steady drinking from the moment he woke up until he passed out later that night. Rinse and repeat.

"Noah, I swear to all that is unholy. If you don't stop recording me right now I'm cutting your hair in your sleep!"

Noah chuckled to himself as Lilly in the video stopped doing her hair to run from him, laughing uncontrollably at his feeble attempt to stop her without dropping his phone. He had been obsessed with recording every moment with her when he wasn't on tour. Some excuse of watching them when he missed her, which he did do, but honestly it was because he just couldn't get enough of her. Even when they bickered he hated not being near her, always finding a reason just be around her while she tried to ignore his presence. Which she inevitably failed at, every time. Because as much as she refused to admit it at first, she needed to be near him just as much as he did her. Once upon a time, anyway.

Heaving a weary sigh he scrolled to the next video, immediately being greeted by her and Danny dressing up a skeleton Halloween decoration. Noah outright laughed as he watched the two of them dressing the skeleton up, neither understanding the directions the other was giving. It was their first Halloween in this house, and Lilly had insisted on going all out for the kids in the neighborhood. She'd had the bright idea of dressing skeletons up as Bring Me The Horizon members to put in the yard as a skeleton band.

Just then Matt walked in, flipping the light on, blinding him.

"Jesus Christ, Matt!" He yelled, covering his eyes. "The fuck do you want?"

"You've been hiding in here too long. Get your ass up and meet me downstairs in five."

"Fuck off."

"See you in five."

Matt left, leaving the door wide open. Fucking asshole. He loved Matt, he did, but he was a fucking asshole sometimes. Couldn't he just be left to rot in fucking peace?

"Fucking asshole," he grumbled, rolling out of bed. If he didn't get down there Matt would be back, likely with a bucket of water to dump on him or something stupid like that.

Noah caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he walked past it, and outwardly cringed. He looked like shit. Hair stuck up in every which way, four days worth of stubble on his face. Well, what little bit he could grow, anyway. He reached for the hoodie he'd flung on the back of his chair, pulling it over his head as he stomped out his bedroom door and to the stairs. This better be good.

***

"If you really want to make amends, hiding after having a panic attack in her kitchen isn't the way to do it."

Matt's words swam around in his head, circling over and over again. He was still an asshole, but he meant well. Of course, he was right. But how would he even go about making amends? Would she even be open to allowing him to? The way she had looked at him that night, he wasn't so sure. However, she had done everything she could in that moment to help him. Shit, it had worked better than anything anyone else did after he got home.

Carefully he leaned forward, inspecting his now shaven face. Couldn't miss any spots or it would drive him nuts. He had always been that way, but since getting sober he was more meticulous about it. Everything had to be just so or he couldn't function properly until it was fixed. Satisfied he had gotten everything he stood back up, pulling a plain white shirt over his head.

First order of business was to get cleaned up. Second was to at least attempt to get a hold of her. If she didn't answer he would just show up. Well, maybe not unannounced. That hadn't exactly gone well last time. A repeat sounded like an absolutely terrible idea if he was honest. One panic attack she might forgive, but a second one? Hardly. He was surprised she even answered her phone the last time.

Speaking of, he picked his phone up off the counter, freezing over her name. Was this a call or text situation? Maybe he should have asked one of the guys first. Jolly would probably be the one to know. He knew her best these days. Unfortunately, Jolly was out with Sadie.

Fuck it. He would text her, and if she didn't get back to him after a while then he would call. For all he knew she was at work, anyway. Heart pounding in his chest he hit the button to text her, freezing at the last message he had received from her. The night he had fucked everything up beyond repair.

"Where are you? Noah, you're worrying me."

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard