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aeralux · 12 days ago

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"Spellbound" - Daemon Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen x Witch!Reader

Summary: A witch doesn't cower to anyone... except maybe a dragon. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Harrenhal seems to be riddled with darkness and mysteries, after all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+); rough sex; oral (f!receiving); fingering; foul language; talks of magick and its use; technically infidelity on Daemon's part; loss of virginity; mention of blood

Words: 8.3k

Notes: No description of the reader, except for dark hair. Takes place in Harrenhal when Daemon is staying there. I tried to be as accurate to Westeros lore as I could, I literally spent hours on their wiki, so I hope it shows through :)

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Harrenhal was a ghastly place. It had the biggest castle of all of Westeros. The castle had five dizzying towers, with equally monstrous curtain walls. The walls were incredibly thick, and its rooms were built on a scale that would be more comfortable for giants than humans—said to be haunted and eerie.

Perfect for sorceresses and sorcerers alike, the city had a coven of Witches who collectively went by the name "Wives of the Gods Eye." The name was an ode to Gods Eye, the largest lake of the Seven Kingdoms, located south of Harrenhal.

In the embrace of warm sunlight, the water of the Gods Eye shimmers in vibrant shades of blue and green, casting a magical glow. Yet, as winter blankets the land, its surface transforms into a steely grey, reminiscent of the coldest metal. Majestic black swans glide gracefully across the water. Just a short distance away, a winding lake road meanders near the storied Harrenhal, leading through a patchwork of rolling hills, sparkling streams, and golden sunlit fields. As one journeys further south, the landscape gives way to dense, shadowy forests, creating a clear contrast.

The lake, with its murky depths, bore a name of divine beings, yet here, amidst the towering pines and shivering mists, there existed no gods. Only monsters lurked in the shadows, and witches wove their secrets beneath the pale moonlight. As for you, you were a bastard of Pinkmaiden, an unwelcome child of a place that should have offered a home. At the young age of six, you were sent to Harrenhal, a castle steeped in blood and betrayal, to serve the lords and ladies of House Strong as one of the laundresses. The ancient stones watched over you with cold indifference, whispering the secrets of many who had come before.

Your raven-black hair flowed like a dark river down your back, framing your face and matching nicely with your unsettling eyes, which shimmered like a stormy sea. These features marked you as different, a reminder of your uncertain heritage. It was not long before the Lady of Harrenhal, with her porcelain skin and sharp gaze, grew wary of your presence. On the eve of your sixteenth birthday, she cast you out, her disdain cutting deeper than any blade.

Alone and bereft, you wandered the wilderness, uncertainty gnawing at your heart. But fortune smiled upon you when the coven of witches found you, their cloaks billowing like dark wings against the whispering wind. They took you in, offering a refuge far removed from the stone walls of Harrenhal. In their hidden glen, where wildflowers crowded beneath the trees, they made you feel cherished for the first time.

Nowadays, for most, magic is a little-understood force in the world. It has been so long since magic was truly potent that most understanding now exists only in superstition and rituals of questionable validity. But with them, you understood, the doubts of others have no claim.

"You are special," they insisted, words dripping with ancient wisdom. "You possess something otherworldly." Their voices wrapped around you like a warm embrace. For the first time, you believed there was a purpose to your existence—a spark that set you apart from common folk, a thread woven from the fabric of something otherworldly.

Under their solemn guidance, you began to practice the mysterious arts. You learned to mix herbs and roots, crafting potions that glinted with promise and danger. Each incantation you whispered held power, resonating with the essence of the world around you. The witching nights became your solace, and as you delved deeper into their teachings, the women of the coven began to call you their newest daughter—their black swan. In that embrace, you found your wings, soaring above the harsh reality that had sought to bind you.

There, in the shadows of Harrenhal, you discovered your true calling and uncovered your hidden talent: Glamour magic. The few ladies of the coven from Asshai welcomed you into their fold. Asshai, a mysterious and ancient port city nestled in the far southeast of Essos, was unlike any place in Westeros, you gathered from their stories. There, the Ash River wound its way through the land, flowing into the vast expanse of the Jade Sea, where the waters sparkled under the sun like jewels.

As you sat among the flickering candles in their dimly lit chamber, they taught you ancient spells in their native tongue. Words danced on your lips like whispers in the wind, each incantation holding power and mystique. They guided you in prayer, teaching you how to bow your head before the Red God, channelling your intentions through sacred rituals. The air was thick with incense, and the flickering shadows brought to life the stories of ages past, filling your heart with a sense of wonder and purpose.

When the wise ladies of the coven, cloaked in shadows and steeped in ancient lore, deemed you ready to embrace your destiny, they presented you with a striking necklace carved from deep black obsidian. Its surface shimmered like a starless night sky, reflecting the flickering flames of the hearth where your journey began. Though the obsidian was traditionally used to forge weapons of war, the coven believed it resonated with your spirit, a perfect talisman for what lay ahead.

As you clasped the necklace around your neck, it transformed into your glamor, an enchanting charm that bestowed upon you the power to weave illusions. With it, the magic could shift the perceptions of those around you, allowing you to appear as someone—or something—entirely different. While the shape of the necklace remained unchanged, the world could see whatever you wished it to see, bending reality to your will.

The true strength of glamors lies in their connection to the wearer. Each illusion from the obsidian was ingrained with a piece of you, making them far more potent than mere tricks of light. As you wore the necklace, you felt it pulse gently against your skin, a current of magic entwining your fate with ancient spells. The coven��s trust in you burned bright like the embers of a dying fire.

In the realm where shadows danced and whispers echoed, the obsidian necklace became more than just an accessory; it was an extension of your very being, a bridge between the world you knew and the numerous possibilities.

Through the fogs surrounding Harrenhal and its haunting towers, a figure emerged one day that would change the course of history. Daemon Targaryen, the rogue prince, found himself in the ancient fortress where magic lingered in the air, where witches snarled their secrets beneath the pale moonlight, and where even the strongest of men lost their minds to visions that tormented them.

The arrival of the Targaryen prince foreshadowed the beginning of the violent conflict known as the Dance of the Dragons, igniting the flames of war. The first target being Harrenhal. Daemon Targaryen, fierce and determined, led the charge to seize this shadowy castle for his wife, Rhaenyra. In his mind, it would become a stronghold for loyal supporters rising in the Riverlands.

Chaos erupted in the region, the air thick with tension and fear hanging heavily over the lords and common folk. Yet amidst this turmoil, you stood resolute, encouraged by the words of an elder from your coven, whose foresight promised their safety in these troubled times.

With unwavering determination, you journeyed to the godswood of Harrenhal, walking along the clear, winding stream that wandered gently through the emerald shrubberies. The ancient weirwood, with its deformed roots and an angry face carved into its bark, awaited you at the heart of the woods. Its pale leaves trembled softly in the breeze, whispering secrets of generations past.

Above you, birds flitted through the branches, their songs mingling with the rustling leaves, while bats emerged as shadows against the dusky sky, patrolling for their evening meal. A sly cat sneaked near the godswood's stone wall, its eyes glinting like lanterns in the twilight. In this serene moment, you felt a peculiar kinship with the creatures of the wood, convinced that you were not alone.

With reverence, you placed your offering between the twisted roots of the ancient tree, murmuring a quick prayer. You believed in many deities, each an important part of your life, hoping that at least one would consider your call. After all, in these dark times, hope was a precious thing.

Before your journey back, you felt a tug in your heart to pay a quick visit to Alys. The kind healer lady was one of the rare souls who did not cast disdainful glances at you during your time in the castle. Known by others as the “witch queen,” Alys saw past the uncanny aura that surrounded you. She had grown fond of you, despite the brooding darkness that seemed to dance in your eyes, and she understood that your best path was far from these stone walls. You stood out too much among the lords and ladies, a vision amidst the living.

Like a creeping shadow, you slipped through the secret passage, the cool air brushing against your skin as you navigated the hidden corridors. The echoes of your footsteps were muffled by the cold, damp stones, as you moved with practised ease to avoid the lurking guards. You knew better than to provoke their watchful eyes.

Upon entering Alys's chamber, you were greeted by a familiar sight—her collection of potions and drying herbs adorned the shelves, a simple yet charming chaos that spoke of her craft. The room held a soft scent of lavender and something earthy, an aroma that always brought you comfort. You wandered over to the table, intrigued by the array of glass bottles filled with vivid liquids.

But the serenity shattered in an instant, as a cold steel blade pressed against your throat, sending a chill cascading down your spine. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, mingling with the tension in the air. Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage as panic surged. Who could it be, a figure lurking in the shadows, ready to end your life? The world around you faded into silence, but your senses heightened, honed by years of uncertainty. At that moment, you wondered if your last moments would be in the castle that had been both shelter and prison.

You couldn't see the face of your attacker, but you could feel the presence looming over you, the weight of their body pressing you forward. The blade dug into your skin, drawing a thin line of blood that trickled down your neck. You swallowed hard, fighting back the fear that threatened to overwhelm you.

"Who are you?" a low and menacing voice demanded. And what are you doing here?"

The voice was unfamiliar to you, but there was a certain authority in it that sent a chill down your spine. You knew that whoever this person was, they meant business.

You tried to turn your head, to catch a glimpse of your attacker, but the blade pressed harder against your throat, making you wince in pain. "Please," you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I mean no harm."

The figure behind you let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "No harm? You sneak into the healer's chambers like a thief in the night, and you claim to mean no harm?"

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, mingling with the blood on your skin. "I'm not a thief," you said, your voice trembling. "I'm a friend of Alys. I came to see her, to...to say hello."

The blade pressed harder against your throat, making you gasp in pain. "Hello?" the voice repeated, a note of suspicion in it. "Somehow I doubt you, little witch."

You knew then that your attacker was well aware of your true nature, of the magic that coursed through your veins. You thought of the obsidian necklace around your neck, the glamor that disguised you as a simple servant girl. But you knew that even that powerful magic would be no match for the Valyrian steel pressed against your throat.

Your heart pounded against your ribs as you struggled to steady your breathing. The cold steel pressed harder against your throat, sending a jolt of pain through your body. You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry, and your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

"I swear, it's true," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling with fear. "I didn't know anyone would be here. I thought...I thought Alys would be alone."

You could feel your attacker's warm breath on the back of your neck, their presence looming over you like a dark shadow. You wanted to turn and face them, to see the face of the one who held your life in their hands, but the blade kept you still.

"Please," you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. "Don't hurt me. I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just...I just wanted to see her"

Your hands shook at your sides, the obsidian necklace hidden beneath your simple servant's gown a cold weight against your skin. You knew that your glamor was useless now, that your true nature had been discovered. But you couldn't let them know about the coven, about the power that you possessed.

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain that was sure to come. You had survived so much in your short life and had endured so much hardship and betrayal. But in that moment, faced with the cold steel of a stranger's blade, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I didn't mean any harm."

You waited for the blade to slice through your skin, for the blood to pour from the wound. But it never came. Instead, you felt the pressure of the blade lessen, the cold steel sliding away from your throat.

Slowly, you turned your head, your eyes widening as you saw the face of the one who had held your life in their hands. It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with hair the colour of spun silver and eyes as violet as an iris. He looked like he had stepped straight out of a legend, a true son of Valyria.

Daemon's violet eyes narrowed as he studied the young woman before him, his gaze sharp and piercing. He could see the fear in your eyes, the way your body trembled beneath his touch, but he also sensed something else—a flicker of something dark and dangerous lurking just beneath the surface. He knew a witch when he saw one, and you were no ordinary servant.

"A friend of Alys's, you say?" he growled, his voice low and menacing. "And yet you seem to know your way around this castle better than most. Tell me, little witch, what exactly are you doing here?"

He kept the blade pressed against your throat, not enough to draw blood, but enough to keep you still. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath the cold steel and could see the way your pulse fluttered. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"I've dealt with your kind before," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "I know the tricks you play, the illusions you weave. But trust me, little one, you'll find no mercy here."

Daemon's eyes flicked down to the necklace hidden beneath your gown, a flicker of recognition sparking in their depths. He had seen such trinkets before. But this one was different—there was a power to it that even he could sense, a dark and ancient magic that thrummed through the air like a heartbeat.

"What's this?" he demanded, his fingers brushing against the hidden amulet. "Some kind of charm, is it? A trinket to hide your true face from the world?"

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "I can smell the magic on you, little witch. It clings to your skin like perfume. The same foul odour that clings to the healer."

Daemon's hand slid down from your throat to your collarbone, his fingers tracing the curve of your flesh beneath the thin fabric of your gown. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath his touch, could see the way your body trembled at his proximity.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady the trembling of your hands as you met Daemon's piercing violet gaze. With a steady motion, you reached behind your neck and unclasped the necklace, letting the heavy amulet drop into your palm. There was no point in trying to hide your identity any longer. Your true face coming to light.

Daemon's lips curled into a wicked grin as you revealed the truth of your identity, his eyes glinting with a predatory hunger. He could see the fear in your eyes, but also the aggressiveness, the spark of something wild and untamed that called to him like a siren's song.

"I am a witch, yes," you admitted in a hushed whisper, your heart pounding so hard you feared he could hear it. "But I speak the truth, your grace. I did not know anyone would be here."

You couldn't help but notice his rugged handsomeness as you spoke, the strong lines of his jaw and the way his muscles rippled beneath the thin linen of his tunic. You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting him to see the effect he was having on you.

"I'm from the coven called the Wives of the Gods Eye," you continued, voice barely above a whisper. "We practice the old ways, the magic that was once forbidden. I simply came here seeking some herbs."

You met his eyes once more, defiance mingling with the apprehension. "I meant you no harm, my lord. I swear it on my life."

"A witch of the old ways, are you?" he purred, his hand sliding up from your collarbone to cup your chin, tilting your face towards his. "How very interesting. And here I thought Alys was the only one in this godforsaken castle who dabbled in the dark arts."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You say you seek herbs, little witch, but what say you to a bargain? Your secrets for my protection."

Daemon's hand slid down to your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat in a loose grip. He could feel your pulse fluttering beneath his touch, could see the way your body trembled at his proximity.

"I could use a witch of your talents in my service," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You stepped back, your hand brushing against the dagger beneath your skirts. "I am not some whore," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous. "I do not offer my services to any man, least of all one who would threaten me with a blade."

You met his gaze, your own eyes blazing with defiance. "You would be wise to let me leave at once, your grace. I have no quarrel with you, but I will not be cowed by threats or promises of power."

Turning on your heel, you strode to the shelves, your movements quick and precise. You grabbed a bottle of dried hemlock, the bitter scent filling your nostrils. You turned back to face him, the vial clutched in your hand like a weapon.

"I a daughter of the Gods Eye. I bow to no man, not even a prince of the realm."

You lifted your chin, your dark hair falling in waves around your face. "Now, I will ask you once more. Let me pass, or face the consequences of crossing a witch."

Your hand tightened on the hemlock, the glass cold against your skin. You could feel the rage thrumming through your veins.

"Choose wisely, your grace."

He had dealt with witches before and had watched as they danced and writhed beneath his touch. In pain and pleasure.

But this one was different. This one had a fire in her eyes that couldn't be tamed, a defiance that only fuelled his dark desires.

"A daughter of the Gods Eye, are you?" he growled, his hand tightening around the hilt of his dagger. "How very bold of you, little witch. To stand before a prince of the realm and threaten him with your petty magic."

He took a step forward, his eyes locked on the vial of hemlock clutched in your hand. "You think that trinket will save you? That your gods will protect you from the wrath of a dragon?"

Your breath hitched as Daemon closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming your senses. The threats rolling off his tongue made your head spin, a dizzying combination of fear and thrill coursing through your veins. You had never met a man who could match the fire in your blood, his very existence seems to challenge you at every turn.

Daemon's lips curled into a cruel smile, his voice dropping to a low, seductive purr. "I have seen the faces of men and women as they begged for mercy, only to be denied. And I have drunk the blood of my enemies, their cries of agony echoing in my ears like a symphony."

"I could hurt you," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "I could crack you like this vial in my hand, leaving you a broken shell of the proud sorceress you once were."

"What do you want?" You gritted out through clenched teeth, hating the way your body reacted to his proximity. Your legs felt weak, your knees threatening to buckle as he loomed over you, his eyes burning into yours.

Daemon's lips curled into a wicked grin at the challenge in your voice, his eyes glinting with a predatory hunger that made your blood run cold. He could see the way your body trembled beneath his gaze, could feel the heat of your skin even from a distance.

Stop it, you scolded yourself. He's just a man. Don't let him get under your skin.

But even as you tried to regain your composure, you could feel the power emanating from him like a physical force. It was intoxicating and dangerous, and you knew that if you weren't careful, you could easily lose yourself in the reckless temptation.

"What do I want?" he purred, his voice low and seductive. "Why, I want what all men want, little witch. Power. Control. To bend others to my will."

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His fingers lingered on your cheek, his touch searing your skin like a brand.

"But with you, I want something more," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to break you. To shatter that defiant spirit of yours and make you mine."

You could feel the heat of his skin against yours, could smell the musk of his scent, and for a moment, you were tempted to give in to the desire coursing through your veins.

But you were not some simpering maiden to be seduced by a pretty face and a silver tongue.

Daemon's hand slid down to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck in a loose grip.

"I could take you now," he growled, his lips brushing against your jawline. "I could pin you to the floor and claim you, make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

His other hand slid down your side, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip through the thin fabric of your gown. "But where's the fun in that? No, I'll take my time with you, little witch. I'll make you beg for my touch, for the sweet release only I can give you."

Daemon's eyes locked with yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "So what will it be, my sweet? Will you submit to me willingly, or will I have to break you first?"

"You think you can break me?" You said, my voice steady and clear. "That you can tame my soul with your pretty words and your empty promises?"

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. "I have faced far worse than you, Daemon Targaryen. I have stared into the abyss and emerged unscathed. Your threats mean nothing to me."

Your hand slid up his chest, your fingers curling around the chain of the dragon necklace that hung from his neck. You could feel the heat of the metal against your skin, looking at him with a scowl on your face.

"But if you truly want to test yourself against me, my lord," you teased, your voice low and enchanting. "If you think you have what it takes to claim me as your own... by all means, try."

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light at your challenge, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He could feel the heat of your body against his, could smell the scent of your skin, sweet and intoxicating.

"You play a dangerous game, little witch," he purred, his hand tightening around your throat. "To challenge a dragon is to invite its wrath."

His other hand slid down your back, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He could feel the heat of your body, could sense the power that coursed through your veins.

"But I like a woman with spirit," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "It makes the eventual submission all the sweeter."

Daemon's hand slid up your side, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast through the thin fabric of your gown. He could feel your nipple harden beneath his touch, could see the way your body responded to his ministrations.

"I will have you, little witch," he growled, his voice low and seductive. "I will claim you as my own, body and soul. And when I am done with you, you will beg for more."

You roll your eyes at Daemon's sweet words, his attempts at seduction falling flat. He thinks he can have you with just a few pretty lies? How naive.

"You tempt me, my prince," you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm no easy conquest. Besides, Alys will be back soon. I bet she won't be happy to see an old man taking advantage of her friend." You smirk cruelly, enjoying the way his eyes narrow at your words.

You try to pull away from him, but his grip on your throat tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I could seriously hurt you, you know," you snarl, your eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "Don't underestimate me."

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. In one swift motion, he slammed you against the wall, his body pinning you in place.

"Enough of your games, little witch," he snarled, his hand tightening around your throat. "You think you can toy with me, challenge me, and walk away unscathed?"

His free hand slid down your body, his fingers tearing at the fabric of your gown with a sharp, ripping sound. Buttons scattered across the floor as he bared your skin to his hungry gaze.

Shock and fury flash through you as Daemon rips open your dress, baring your breasts to his hungry gaze. You stare at him, completely still as a statue from utter disbelief, your breath coming in heavy gasps that make your breasts heave with each inhale.

"I will have you," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I will claim you as my own, body and soul."

Daemon's hand slid down your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast, teasing your nipple into a hardened peak. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way your body trembled beneath his touch.

"I can feel your desire, little witch," he purred, his lips brushing against your ear. "Your body betrays you, even as you try to resist. I will make you mine, in every way possible."

"W-wait," you try to say, but your voice comes out breathy and weak as his fingers roll your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Your eyes roll back and a soft moan escapes your parted lips.

What is happening? How did this get so out of control? You think to yourself, your mind spinning from the onslaught of sensation. You can't believe this is happening, that you are letting a man you barely know take such liberties with your body.

Daemon's lips curled into a wicked grin as he saw the effect his touch was having on you, your body arching into his hand like a cat in heat. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way your body trembled beneath his ministrations.

His hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your ripped gown to caress the soft skin of your leg. He could feel the heat of your body.

"But first, I think I'll taste you," he growled, his hand sliding higher, higher until his fingers brushed against the slick, heated flesh of your core.

Even as you try to formulate a protest, your body betrays you, arching into his touch, craving more of the delicious pleasure he's igniting within you. No, I can't let this happen. I have to stop him.

But the words never leave your lips, lost in a moan as Daemon's hand slides lower, teasing you in places you have only touched in secret, in the dark of night. You are lost in a haze of sensation, your body responding to his touch despite your mind's protests.

"That's it, little witch," he purred, his fingers pinching and tugging at your nipple. "Give in to the pleasure. Let yourself feel the ecstasy only I can give you."

He could feel the wetness of your arousal, could smell the musky scent of your desire.

"You're already so wet for me," he growled, his fingers brushing against your slick folds. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind tries to deny it."

Daemon's fingers slid higher, teasing your entrance with a feather-light touch. Your walls clenched around his fingers, begging for more.

You couldn't think straight, your mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. It was wrong to crave a man you had just met, especially one who had threatened your life moments ago. But the way his fingers teased your most intimate places sent waves of pleasure through your body.

You had heard the other women of your coven speak of lovemaking, their descriptions painting it as a powerful form of magic. Perhaps you could harness this power, and use it to your advantage as Daemon desired to use you for his own pleasure.

Your hips rolled against his hand, seeking more friction. You bit your lip to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your lips, determined to maintain some facade of control. But deep down, you knew you were in danger of losing yourself to the sensations he was eliciting.

Daemon's eyes glinted with triumph as he felt your hips roll against his hand, your body betraying your true desires. He could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you bit your lip to stifle your moans, and it only served to fuel his own dark lust.

"You can't hide from me, little witch," he growled, his fingers teasing your slick folds. "I can feel how much you want this, how much you crave my touch."

He pressed two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit with a maddening rhythm.

You let out a loud, uncontrollable moan as Daemon's fingers delved deep into your untouched walls, his touch igniting a fire within you. Your juices flowed freely, coating his hand as ecstasy consumed your entire being.

Your body writhed against the cold stone wall, your hips bucking shamelessly against his skilled fingers as he finger-fucked you with reckless abandon. Waves of pleasure crashed over you with each thrust, your breasts heaving as he groped and kneaded them roughly.

"Your body is mine now," Daemon snarled, plunging his fingers deeper into your slick heat. He curled them just right, stroking that sensitive spot within you that made your vision go white. "You'll scream my name until your throat is raw. You'll beg for my cock like a bitch in heat."

His other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he finger-fucked you with ruthless intensity. Your cries of pleasure echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the lewd squelching sounds of his fingers pounding into your drenched cunt.

"That's it, take it," Daemon growled, his lips latching onto a pert nipple. He sucked hard, grazing the bud with his teeth as his fingers ruthlessly stroked your g-spot. "Come for me, little witch. Let me feel you spasm on my fingers."

He could feel your walls fluttering around his digits, your body teetering on the brink of climax. With a final, brutal thrust, he sent you careening over the edge. Your scream of ecstasy filled the room as your pussy clenched down on his fingers, your release dripping down his fingers.

Daemon lapped at your neck, tasting the salt of your sweat. He continued pumping his fingers through your climax, prolonging your pleasure until you were boneless and mewling.

"Good girl," he purred, finally withdrawing his soaked fingers. He brought them to your lips, smearing your essence across them. "Clean them."

Your eyes fluttered open, glazed with post-orgasmic bliss. You hesitated only a moment before parting your lips, allowing him to push his fingers into your mouth. The musky taste of your arousal coated your tongue, and you couldn't help but moan around his digits.

He grins wickedly as you lap at his fingers provocatively, cleaning your essence from them. As his fingers are clean, he lowers himself to the floor, kneeling before you, as to worship you.

You gasp as Daemon sinks to his knees before you, his dark eyes fuming with raw desire. Your heart races, your pulse pounding in your ears as he settles between your trembling thighs. The heat of his breath on your most sensitive flesh sends electric shocks of pleasure straight to your core.

Dazed and off-balance, you instinctively reach out, fisting your hands in his hair for support. Your legs still feel like jelly from your earth-shattering climax moments before.

A bewildered expression crosses your face as he grins up at you, his tongue snaking out to drag along your dripping slit. You cry out, your head slamming back against the cold stone wall as ecstasy crashes over you in relentless waves.

"Mmmm, you taste divine," Daemon purrs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds. He laps at your essence like a man starved, his tongue delving deep to drink from your most intimate well.

You can only moan brokenly, your head thrashing from side to side as he feasts upon your quivering flesh. His tongue is pure sin, licking and suckling at your clit with unholy skill.

"Good girl," he growls, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. "Ride my face. Grind that pretty cunt against my tongue."

Lost to the all-consuming pleasure, you do as he commands, rolling your hips shamelessly against his mouth. Your thighs clench around his head, trapping him in place as you fuck his face with feral ease.

His lips close around your clit, suckling the sensitive bud as he thrusts two fingers into your dripping channel. They curl just right, stroking that secret spot within you that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Daemon groans, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering walls.

You can only whimper in response, your body tensing as another climax builds at the base of your spine. It coils tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

Daemon's tongue delved deep, lapping at your dripping essence with a hunger that bordered on feral. He groaned against your slick flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through your body.

He focused his attention on your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking the sensitive bud with rapid, teasing strokes. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he devoured you like a man starved.

Your fingers tightened in his hair. The public nature of your coupling only served to heighten the forbidden thrill, the rush of being taken in a place where anyone could stumble upon you.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his probing tongue as he brought you to the brink of climax once more.

With one final, hard suck, he sent you spiralling over the edge. Your scream of ecstasy echoed off the stone walls as your pussy clenched around his tongue, your release gushing into his eager mouth.

Daemon lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure as he drank down every last drop of your sweet nectar. He continued his ministrations until your body went limp, your cries turning to whimpers as the waves of pleasure subsided.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. He stood, a wicked grin on his face as he towered over your prone form.

"You taste divine, little witch," he purred, his hand sliding up your body to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple, rolling the hardened peak between his fingers. "I could feast on your cunt for hours and never grow tired."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "But I'm not nearly done with you yet..."

Lifting you up with ease, Daemon tosses you onto the creaky bed, your body bouncing on the worn mattress. You cry out in surprise, your heart pounding as you take in his towering form looming over you. His eyes burn with a hunger that gives you chills.

"Daemon, please," you plead, your voice trembling. Your core aches, still throbbing from the intense climaxes he's wrought from your untouched body. You are no experienced harlot, but an untouched maiden, and you fear you are not ready for the sheer size of him.

Daemon's large hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he settles between your thighs.

Daemon's eyes raked over your trembling form, taking in the sight of you spread out before him like a feast. His cock throbbed with need, straining against the confines of his breeches as he drank in the sight of your swollen, glistening folds.

His hands moved with urgent purpose, his fingers making quick work of the laces of his breeches. He shoved the garment down his legs, kicking it aside with a careless motion. His cock sprang free, the thick shaft jutting out proudly from a nest of dark curls.

He rubbed his cock against your slick entrance, teasing you with the promise of his hard length. You could feel it throbbing against your sensitive flesh, hot and hard and ready to claim you utterly.

"Please," you whimpered, your body trembling with need. "I... I've never... I don't know if I can take you."

A cruel smile twisted Daemon's lips as he heard your plea.

"Please be gentle," you whisper, looking up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes.

Daemon's expression softens for a moment, a flicker of something akin to tenderness crossing his features. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your trembling bottom lip.

"Shh, little witch," he murmurs, his voice surprisingly mild. "I'll make it good for you. I promise."

With that, he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, staking his claim over you.

As he kisses you deeply, you feel the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. Slowly, incredibly slowly, he begins to push forward, stretching you open around his thick girth.

A sharp gasp escapes you, breaking the kiss as he breaches your barrier. Pain and pleasure mingle together, your untouched walls struggling to accommodate his size.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his hips grinding against yours. He gives you a moment to adjust, his hands roaming your body possessively. "Such a perfect little cunt, made just for me."

He starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. The rhythm is brutal, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pain and pleasure crashed over you in equal measure. He stretched you wide, his thick length filling you in a way you never thought possible. Your walls stretched and clenched around him, your slick arousal easing the way as he claimed you over and over again.

"Fuck!" Daemon snarls, his eyes rolling back at the tight, wet heat of your virgin walls.

Daemon sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with animalistic hunger. His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he ruts into your willing body.

"Take it," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure, his hips snapping against yours with ruthless force.

The bed creaked beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and his grunts as he took you, his cock sawing in and out of your dripping cunt. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails raking down his back, leaving red marks and bloody imprints.

Daemon's brutal thrusts tore through you, each one sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. You screamed, your voice hoarse and ragged as he pounded into your virgin cunt. Tears streamed down your face, your nails raking down his back as you clung to him desperately.

He had taken something sacred from you, your maidenhead, and you knew your souls were now tied. The ritual of first blood, unplanned as it was, had sealed your fates together. And with a dragon as your first, the power you could now wield...

You threw your head back, your moans echoing off the stone walls as he fucked you with complete disregard. Your hips bucked to meet his thrusts, the pain giving way to a pleasure you had never known before. You were lost to the sensation, your body consumed by the feel of him inside you.

Daemon's eyes darkened at the sight of your tears, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He could feel your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock like a vice as he claimed you over and over again.

He angled his hips, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you with each brutal thrust. His hands roamed your body, groping and squeezing, leaving bruises in their wake.

"That's it," he growled, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock like the little slut you are. Fucking mine now, aren't you? Your cunt belongs to me."

You met his thrusts with your own, your hips rising to meet him as he drove into you over and over again. The bed groaned beneath you, the frame creaking threateningly as he took you with unrestrained lust.

You felt your peak nearing, your entire body on fire as Daemon pounded into you with unrestrained fury. You brought his neck to your teeth, biting down hard enough to draw a few drops of blood. The copper taste flooded your mouth, bitter and metallic as you licked the crimson liquid from your lips.

"Now you have bled for me too," you whispered ominously, your voice thick with lust and dark magic.

But before you could reach your peak, you quickly reached for your enchanted necklace, clutching it in your hand. The ancient magics within pulsed to life, amplifying the power of this ritual tenfold.

Power surged through you, your cunt squeezing tight around Daemon's cock as you came. Your eyes rolled back, your body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Dark energy swirled around you, the air crackling with stifled energy.

"Mine," you whispered, your voice echoing with unexpected dominance. "You are mine now, Daemon Targaryen. Entwined by blood and pleasure."

Daemon's eyes flew open in surprise, his mouth falling open as he felt the surge of dark witchcraft. But it was too late - the ritual was complete.

Daemon froze, his cock buried deep inside your still-spasming cunt. He stared down at you, his eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear.

He groaned, his hips stuttering as your cunt clenched around him like a vice. The dark magic amplified every sensation, every touch, every thrust. It was overwhelming and intoxicating, and he never wanted it to end.

"Fuck," he gasped, his voice strained with anger and pleasure. "What did you do?"

But even as he asked, he knew. You had bound him to you, claimed him in a way that went beyond the physical.

He thrust into you one last time, his cock erupting deep inside you as he came.

He tried to pull out, to break the connection, but your walls clenched around him, refusing to let him go. Panic flashed across his face as he realized the implications of what you'd done.

"You... you she-devil," he snarled, his hands tightening on your hips. "Did you plan this? To trick me, to bind me to you?"

You just grinned, a vicious, seductive curve of your lips. You could feel his fear, his anger, but beneath it all was a flicker of arousal. The power you now held over him was intoxicating.

"Shh," you cooed, your fingers trailing down his chest. "Don't fight it. We are one now."

You roll your hips, your walls clenching around his softening cock. He groans, his hips bucking unconsciously into yours.

You gasped as the obsidian stone of your necklace pulsed warmly against your throat. The maleficent force surged through your veins, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "Yes!" You cried out, the power exhilarating in your veins.

Your eyes, nearly black now, held his gaze as you sneered cruelly.

Daemon collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His softening cock slipped from your abused cunt, a trickle of his seed leaking out to pool on the tattered sheets beneath you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still intertwined as you both tried to process what had just happened. The energy that had swirled around you during your climax still lingered in the air, making the hairs on Daemon's arms stand on end.

Slowly, he lifted his head, his dark eyes searching your face. He looked confused as he took in your triumphant grin and the blackness of your eyes.

"What... what did you do to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You smiled at him, your eyes gleaming with malice. "I didn't do anything to you. I had no desire to harm you, as I stated before," you answered truthfully. "Did you know that the moment when one reaches orgasm is the most intense and the most powerful experience a human can have in life? For in that moment, the soul suddenly opens to the divine realm and the breath of God is infused. I needed another to reach divinity."

You rose from the bed, slipping your ripped dress back on and throwing a cloak over yourself. "I simply used you... as you have done to many women in your life, I'm sure. Do not fret, my prince," you smirked.

Daemon stared up at you, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and a hint of grudging admiration. He pushed himself up to sit, his naked body on full display as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"Used me?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "I've never been used like this before."

He stood, his cock already starting to harden again at the sight of you, despite his anger. He took a step towards you, his hand reaching out as if to grab you, but he stopped himself.

"What are you?" he demanded, his eyes raking over your form. "What kind of witch are you?"

He snatched up his discarded breeches, roughly pulling them on, his mind reeling from the events of the past hour.

"I should kill you for this," he growled, but there was no real heat behind his words. He knew he couldn't, not now. Not with the bond between you, however unexpected it may be.

"What do you want from me now?" He asked, rage clearly visible in his eyes.

You sauntered over to Daemon, your hips swaying seductively. The rip in your dress left little to the imagination, your full breasts on display for his hungry gaze. You could see the desire warring with the anger in his eyes as you approached.

"Nothing anymore, my prince," you purred, your voice like honey. "My powers have been amplified. I owe you a debt of gratitude for that."

You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the prickle of his stubble. "Though I wouldn't mind having you take me again. I doubt I'll find another man as virile as you in all of Westeros."

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "You've awakened something in me, Daemon Targaryen. A hunger I never knew I could satisfy."

Your hand slid down his chest, your nails raking lightly over his skin. "I am yours. And I suspect you are mine as well."

You pulled back, your eyes locking with his. "What say you, my dragon?"

Daemon's breath hitched as you touched him, his body responding instantly to your proximity despite his anger. He grabbed your wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise as he glared down at you.

He pulled you closer, his other hand gripping your hip. "You want to be taken again?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll fucking ruin you."

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enden-k · 2 months ago

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𝔸𝕄𝕐𝔾𝔻𝔸𝕃𝔸 ℕ𝔸𝕍𝕀

(trying to update whenever theres smth new)

the story is about vika, a human who is basically not existing to anyone due to his sickness, and saran, a vengeful spirit shackled to the world due to the circumstances of his death, and their deep love for each other. saran devours eyes and other fears so general warning for many eyes/eye contact and upcoming eye horror (everything will be tagged as such and warnings will always be given) vika contemplated suicide and practiced self-harm in the past, tws are always given if its brought up or appears in flashbacks

MAIN: (top right → bottom left)

1 /

SIDE: ("bonus", or extras that happen(ed) at different times than main)

• a ghost's touch (tw for vikas suicide contemplation) • flashback - office nap

ART:

• elite 9 character files • elite 9 fear contracts • saranvika random facts n stuff (vika self-harm mention) • first doodles/sketches • memes • saranvika doodles: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 (tw eyes/eye contact) / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 • requests: 1 / 2 • saran and azai (present)

LORE: (explanations abt the story/world etc)

• "fears", amygdala and fear seekers • fear contracts • tiny bit about azai and his feelings for saran • explanation to "a ghost's touch"; vikas suicide contemplation (tw for that), meeting saran, the difference of their contract compared to usual fear contracts, and the exchanges/sacrifices made to control the unseen • some numbers n ages • tiny bit about suyo • fear contracts vs saranvika contract • saran and vikas love and relationship • a little bit more about azai • a little bit more more about azai and his feelings for saran • a little bit about how sarans many-eyes work • some stuff about saran and his tentacles (arms): 1 / 2 • map of the 10 regions + birthplaces/important locations as of now • vikas life expectancy • a little bit more about sarans many-eyes and tattoos: 1 / 2 • a bit about the side effects of fear contract/tool use

ETC: (asks, random rambles, etc)

• amygdala = fear contract sugar daddy • saran being protective • vika and food • saranvika and halloween • saran likes to do that and it grounds vika greatly (better explained than i could) • saran is a menace. more at 11 • vika and weighted blankets/the meaning of weight/pressure for him • i cant stfu abt saranvikas deep love for each other • vikas eternal struggle with paperwork, thanks to noah • saran and azais one of many differences ramble • its 11. saran is still a menace • not going to link it bc its on my nsfw blog but vika is a big cuddler (he enjoys being the little spoon) by nature, its like he can never get enough of feeling saran. hes also v sensitive bc of the whole unable to feel touch except for saran/never felt others touches and gets flustered • trust • elite 9 about saranvika relationship • saranvika and (horror)movies • vika and sarans eye • vika and smoking • saran and his feelings about the afterlife • elite 9 and their birthplaces • saran and food (no, not eyes but human food) • saranvika and some cute relationship things they do

• saran, his negative energy and nightmares • sarans gentle face hold and vikas full body cuddles • saranvikas dynamic ramble • sarans gentle face hold vs azais possessive grip (warning for descriptive injury/sarans death) • vika and smoking 2 • is saran jealous? • does saran show himself to others? • sarans first name + hidden cult mark • cat or dog person? • some more random questions (fav flowers etc) • what if saran and vika had kids <3

• playlist (always updating) • FANART!!! 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

OCTOPLUSHIE ADVENTURES: (it got its own section 🐙)

• the beginning of an unusual rivalry • saran is not prone to jealousy......BUT • saran and taking responsibility • the rival in all its glory (and similarity)

"REVERSE" AU (alive!saran/fear!vika)

• story • doodles: 1

#amygdala stuff #long post

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asklesbianonceler · 6 months ago

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My Analysis on Count Ymir and Metyr

This is my personal analysis on the lore and plot as a whole, Carians vs other sorcerers, an Ymir character study, a Metyr study, and my take on it in regards to gender and deeper themes and motifs. (From a positive lens)

Blue is for things added later: last updated 8/20

I've made a post on sorcerers and their downfalls prior to this and it is still extremely important to look at the differences between sorcerers who go too far like Sellen, Azur, Lusat, and graven masses as a whole vs Ymir. Because Ymir is most closely related to Rennala, literally and narratively. They are both Carians and experience "corruption" via a similar outlet.

Sellen, and the others who looked into the primeval current, only craved knowledge. They were far more detached from the beauty and divinity of everything around them and aimed to know too much. Graven masses are students who go too far. Even Thopps somehow dies from studying too hard. This happens because of their own actions. We don't kill or fight them.

There's one thing that is consistent with all Carians. Their downfall is their hearts. Ranni makes this so clear with her poorly veiled attempts at avoiding attachment with our tarnished. She tells us to tell Blaidd and Iji how much she loves them. She is detached because she knows she must be but she is terrible at hiding that she still has a heart. Rennala was consumed with grief and loss after the golden order presumably caused her and Marika (Radagon) to miscarry as well as forcing the love of her life away from her. She also loses all of her children to their own ambitions (they move out and do their own thing) Regardless, she is a husk because of love. Rellana abandoned her home to chase after love which was likely unrequited and still she forged swords of matrimony that she wields alone until her death, ever loyal to protecting the man she fell for. Rennala understood Relanna was chasing what her heart desired and sanctioned it. This is just a known fact about Carians. They get it. Their downfall is not knowledge but succumbing to love.

We know that prior to his involvement with finger sorceries Ymir was far more of a romantic than other sorcerers. Beloved Stardust's description is from a recitation he gave as a teacher to the Carians and it states that "One need only envision the romance of the stars above with adoration for stardust in one's heart to become a greater sorcerer. Do so, and you will know love."

He tells us it's only natural to want power and the truth but to no extent is this like Sellen's quest. He is not asking us to enable him like she is. Yes, he moved on from his studying of the moon, but it was not the same way she did. She wants to unravel it all and lay it bare, pick it apart. She is also driven to understand the elden ring which is very golden order centric. (want to be clear. I love Sellen)

She wants to dissect the life in the stars. Ymir wants to appreciate it's beauty. It is a clear clinical vs whimsical, both to negative extent. Sellian vs Carian.

We have no way of knowing his history in the lands between. He looks extremely similar to the figure on the Carian inverted statue and also has ties to Miriam, but that's all we can know for a fact. We also know for a fact that there are fingercreepers in both the gardens of Caria Manor and the flipped elevator of the Carian Study Hall.

I saw someone suggest recently that these were here as original assassins of the greater will to thwart Ranni back when the Greater Will still spoke to Metyr. I do like this. I believe the fingers were there for a very long time trying to accomplish something. Further I would suggest this is where Ymir first began to question them as he was no doubt in at least one of these Carian locations pre move to the Lands of Shadow.

We also don't know his early history in the lands of shadow aside from him teaching Rellana which he likely also did in the Lands Between. It seems clear Rellana brought a few Carians with her (the handful of white robed sorcerers, Moonthryll, and her teacher Ymir)

But we can come to two possible ideas from Manus Metyr and both give us a similar end point.

A. he had his own family and a child named Yuri who died very young and was buried in the graveyard, perhaps the only family he brought with him when he left everything and moved there.

B. Yuri was always just the fingercreeper and the fact that we can read the grave pre-quest is A an error. (odd but still completely possible) Or B this implies he has been continuously trying to birth the same fingercreeper over and over. The original fingercreeper child, Yuri, that he came to love dearly that never lived long being the main grave and the others all potentially being the additional failed attempts

Later on, during his research into the fingercreepers/two fingers he learns everything he knows in present day Elden Ring, becoming a high priest of Metyr and learning many of her spells. It is also during this time that he seems to beg Metyr/The Greater Will, to allow himself to birth fingers of his own.

This can be interpreted two ways as well. And we'll go in order from our last A and Bs.

A. He loses his only child in the land of shadow and is aware of Metyrs abilities. The GW (Or Metyr?) takes pity on him and shares power with him, allowing him to birth the fingercreeper Yuri. It is up for interpretation whether Yuri actually has the soul of his lost child in it or if Ymir is just so thankful for this new child that he projects his dead son onto him. I don't think there's any emotional distinction here.

B. He wishes to become the new envoy of the greater will from the start and is given one singular child, or just one child who lives, again, likely out of the desire for connection, pity, or perhaps pettiness of Metyr. (i'll come back to this in terms of Metyr giving him power). Through this he inevitably comes to love Yuri because obviously he is going to love his first child more than life itself.

As i said, the end point is the same. He is a Carian. He loves too fiercely. His original goals are pushed aside by the love he has for Yuri. In private he only talks about Yuri. He doesn't muse on and on about clinical knowledge or his desire to replace a god. He does not speak with any hint of madness, just utter devotion that I could see being seen as unhealthy. (i don't interpret it this way at this point but i get it. Just remember he is someone who is nearly completely alone in the land of shadow who has potentially experienced loss of severe magnitude before)

I also think that what we overhear at Yuri's grave sounds completely normal for grief. He wishes to be left alone and when he talks to Yuri he talks about only wanting to be his mother. He laments failing and promises to try again for him. This also lends to the idea that he believes there is a singular soul being moved around.

He only talks about Yuri. He isn't talking about replacing Metry and these are his most private thoughts.

I have seen theories that suggest he did not birth Yuri himself and perhaps stole him. His dialogue in private heavily implies he birthed him himself. As well as his unaltered robes which say they conceal an abundance of squirming beneath. So he had those fingers under there the whole time, definitely not as large and efficient as the ones during his boss fight, but they were there... and they were functioning.

I also don't think he ever comes off as this delusional? that might just be me but everything he says and everything Jolán says about him contradicts this. If there's any delusion it's the denial that comes with grief where he could believe his child's soul is in the baby fingercreeper.

But back to his quest- when we meet him he knows that the fingers that told Marika what to do were corrupt because Metyr is corrupt. He is exclusively blaming Metyr for this source of sickness. (this is an instance of him being a not fully educated narrator. He is slightly right, but needs to go further, a further we only learn from item descriptions where we learn the GW no longer wants a finger mother* i'll get back to this. But also THIS IS SO IMPORTANT WE LITERALLY LEARN THAT THE LANDS BETWEEN LOST THE PLOT AND THE FINGERS AND ANY ENDING THAT FOLLOWS THEM IS WRONG)

I believe at this point he thinks he birthed Yuri through the powers of the greater will and himself exclusively. I don't think he believes Metyr was involved because he knows Metyr is sick. He thinks the GW still wants a finger mother to send new messages.

We do his quest, we bind ourselves to our fate in the stars and of course that fate leads us to slay another remembrance boss. We need to clean up all the failed ideas of the GW so they aren't sticking around and causing trouble. Classic tarnished shit. iykyk.

EDIT: there is dialogue I missed and it seems dialogue a lot of people missed. If you talk to him after fighting Anna but before Metyr he asks you if you saw something down there, referring to Metyr. He tells you to remove it and any misconceptions from your mind lest it bring woe upon the both of you. (This is paraphrasing I don't completely remember the exact wording rn but it's essentially this). He doesn't want you to mess with Metyr. He has his own plans. He knows something bad will happen and he tells you to forget about her.

So why is Ymir hurt by you fighting Metyr even though the quest lead you hear? Irreparably hurt even? (1 and 2 can exist together still. they are not exclusively one or the other)

He had pushed aside this loftier goal and was still grieving for Yuri and only wanted to be his mother. The mother of one child. (To me that feels like it isn't taking it far enough. I do think he firmly believes he can do it better still. He hasn't realized the full truth. I just don't think this is at the forefront of his mind at this moment. He still wants to be The mother. His high opinion of himself makes it clear he believes he can do this)

He did not know that the GW had no need for Metyr any longer and that she had been broken and abandoned. He merely thought she was corrupted. So when he is possessed BY Metyr this is awful. He wanted to be a new mother. Not the same one.

GOES WITH MY PREVIOUS ADD ON: he may be aware he is using Metyr as a power source and believes killing her will affect him negatively. It is unclear if he knows the type or extent. Perhaps believing it will take away his power or perhaps aware it could be too much for him. He is also learning from her, so her untimely death would also be bad simply for this reason.

Okay now it's time for me to talk about Metyr in greater detail

The Staff of the Great Beyond says Metyr was broken and abandoned but still kept waiting for messages. This is also what the spell fleeting microcosm says which is likely referring to both Ymir and Metyr at this point since it is a spell that can be purchased from him as well as one Metyr uses, going on to say "The broken and discarded are fully willing to cling to fleeting simulacra, earning them some modicum of sympathy" He is a clearly broken person who thought he was grasping the GW's truth but wasn't and Metyr was clinging to her old life hoping for it to come back and for her to have purpose again despite being abandoned by her own mother. Metyr is unique and incredibly complicated which is interesting because her closest equivalent is the Elden Beast and other falling stars. Her items make it clear she had complex feelings- anger, grief, loneliness, resentment, loyalty. She WAS the magnificent gleaming daughter of the Greater Will. She was once loved and she knows that. Her other remembrance weapon is called Gazing Finger, but it's the name of its move that tells us the most about her. Kowtower's Resentment. She showed unwavering respect to the GW but she grew to resent it. We learn so much about her that only further ties into the overall themes of motherhood in Elden Ring. Imagine how Metyr must feel. Aside from the brewing hate inside her caused by the GW directly TOO her she is also forced to watch her children either grow increasingly more and more corrupt over time or slain. She knows her children aren't going into the world to be loved any longer. She knows she's sending them off to a terrible fate and still she must do it. Her children are purposeless. When we tie our fate to the stars- the great cosmic will- the new plan, it brings us there and it prompts us to kill Metyr and clean up its loose ends. But instead of letting herself be killed outright or leaving the lands between/shadow, she goes somewhere else because she is angry. She wants to be loved and needed. She is desperate to receive messages again. She wants to prove herself. We can say for certain that it is Metyr that possess Ymir in our fight because the GW has no desire to make a new mother of fingers and Metyr had already been lending him her power. There is only one and we clearly don't kill all of her at first. Is this her last effort to best the GW or merely her defiance to continue on living? Waiting to be of use again? Alas, we kill Ymir as well. ALSO- just mentioned Metyr to my wife and she said "Yeah Metyr is so similar to Messmer" and I literally said OH FUCK. YEAH! So let's touch on that: Both of them are abandoned by their mother, trapped somewhere, enacting her original design, spreading her original message all while never hearing from her ever again and still remaining fiercely loyal to the end.

Now back to Ymir and Metyr

Was Metyr sharing her powers with him out of loneliness or spite or simply curiosity?

It's definitely something that's up for personal interpretation because I don't believe these are spells just anyone can use or learn. The simple glintstone nail spells even say Ymir thinks they are "child's play" but fleeting microcosm and Cherishiny fingers are very different. The nail spells are ones others may be able to learn but the other two are unique to finger mothers. Also the act of birthing fingers is not a spell. It's Metyrs own unique ability and purpose- so clearly Metyrs power directly from her.

Did she long to be understood? To share what she was going through with someone else? Was she trying to show him that it wasn't her that was broken?

Did she resent him for blaming her and studying her? Or did she herself think she was to blame? Did she share her grief with him out of spite? Making him too experience loss via Yuri?

Or did she also have a bit of hope that maybe through a new vessel she would be seen again by the GW? Maybe her children wouldn't be cursed.

She certainly shared quite a lot with Ymir for it to be out of spite and their items and spells mimicking each other in descriptions really makes it feel like she wanted him to understand her. Both of their staffs show a microcosm but receive no answer. She lets him birth her children.

And Yuri is clearly aware of this. He's likely never seen Metyr but still has nightmares about her. Ymir telling him to "put that tangled mess out of his mind" He's torn quite literally about his origins. Ymir is his mother but Metyr is a presence he is aware of and in unfamiliar with to the point of fear. Perhaps this is what brings about his early death- that incomplete or splintered origin.

On to Ymir boss fight speculation/ theory

We have our ideas on why Ymir was hurt and upset by us fighting Metyr. Him taking on her corruption and learning GW truths as well as his own grief already being too forefront. But I wonder if when Metyr possessed Ymir he took on her grief and loneliness as well. Would he be able to cope with her literal cosmic scale of loss and heartache? Being misunderstood? Being abandoned by her own mother? I think it's a really interesting foil to have Sellen and co. destroyed and driven to insanity by knowledge and Ymir driven to insanity by grief and love. It makes the tear streaked makeup on his boss model hit a lot harder that way and feel far more intentional as tears which is what the dripping black really evokes (despite is being part of the tattoo category of character creation which is definitely just character creator limitation)

When we fight Ymir he also has a really effective voice inflection change as well. Props to his voice actor for almost making him sound completely different and just gone.

But yeah it feels clear that his fight is the built up madness of both him and Metyr's greatest desires manifested. They're consumed by loss and anger and a desire to be wanted and seen in the eyes of the greater will. They both want to receive messages and be The Mother.

Then we get his normal voice when we kill him where all he can think of is Yuri again and wanting to be his mother. He isn't thinking about being THE mother. Literally just Yuri. What is most important to him. The true Ymir. And of course, it's similar to Rennala's true voice coming through when we beat her, speaking about her beloved daughter, just HER daughter, not the sweetings.

I truly don't think he was as insane or gone as people think he was in nearly the entirety of his quest. and I honestly just think people default to saying "oh he's insane and delusional and freaky" because he is a "man" who is a mother.

okay thank god i can finally get into the gender of all this.

What do we know about Ymir in regards to gender?

Names are intentionally chosen in fromsoft games. Ymir was a norse giant who, though using masculine pronouns, was considered neither male nor female because he could birth children of his own.

He is named after an agender mythological figure who also has a moon named after him.

So we can read into Ymir being agender. He uses masculine pronouns, wears headwear that is strictly feminine, very neutral royal attire (we don't know enough about Carian clothing to have an opinion on the robe, gloves, or pants), a little makeup, and has no hang ups on being able to be a mother.

I, as someone who is nonbinary, have my own unique connection to him as a character that makes me really like this about him. In my brain gender means nothing which separates me from my trans wife where gender and expression mean everything. I have never had a mental connection to gender. I have presented many ways in my life since coming out. My outward appearance does not dictate my relationship to gender nor what I can do. In fact I think about gender very little.

Motherhood not being synonymous with female pronouns here is cool to me as well. it is nice gender non-essentialism.

But if we get into Elden Ring as being about women and the feminine divine as a whole, we can also read into him differently.

I've seen many people tag him as being trans to them! And I like that just as much.

He studies the fingers which are exclusively ruled by women. Metyr is their mother, finger readers are all women, then of course finger maidens. Even further, Metyr is a daughter of the GW. He says we ALL are her children. The GW is the original mother of all things. The creator of all life because she created stardust and to study the stars is to study the life in all things. Nearly all societies in ER are led by women. There is an innate power in womanhood in ER.

He gazed into the stars with adoration in his heart and knew true love. He felt loved amidst that divinity and sought to follow that path for himself. He embraced something that meant everything to him body and soul. He underwent true physical change for it. And with Yuri he was happy.

And of course, as all soulsborne games, it has to be tragic for us to see beauty in it, so he, just like nearly everyone else we know, faces a terrible end because of the fate of our tarnished and the GW's goal. He isn't a villain because he has a unique relationship with gender and it is kinda wild i've seen someone say that.

My additional thought on this is that it feels unnecessarily detailed for his robe description to talk about the ruff that "sparkles like a flower wet with dew" We really only get two other characters specifically connected to flowers and that's Malenia and St.Trina. Both are related to feminine identity, divinity, and true self. Malenia becoming the Scarlet Aeonia, her true form as a goddess, and St. Trina literally being the woman Miquella was meant to become. A literal transition could have saved her narrative.

So yes, I can absolutely see people interpreting Ymir through a trans woman lens as well. I love that different people can identify with this character differently and see parts of themself here and if other people have different takes on this character's gender identity and it making them feel represented, that's great! I just can only talk on my personal take and the discussion i had about him with my wife.

Can I see why people wouldn't like him? Yeah, so long as it isn't based on a lack of knowledge of the plot, items, and dialogue, or based on extreme pre-existing biases. Because I have seen a bad take or two that boil down to this kind of misinformation which is really frustrating.

There is no evidence in the text that he is a bad person. Jolán respects and cares for him immensely. She doesn't reveal to us any actual feelings about Anna and this is all very vague. Yes Anna is a puppet but Nox are the only people we know of that did willingly become puppets. She is also a recusant which is interesting as well. Most invaders are just invaders. Recusants specifically are invaders with a job (recusant fingers only come from Rykard but are snake scaled so potentially also Eiglay? Base Serpent? She may have just served another master). There may also be a reason for this due to game function alone or there may be the narrative reason. We really can't know much about them as they are side, side characters. But them being Nox i think is telling. He was also clearly a very respected Carian sorcerer and was a teacher to Rellana. Textually, he is never portrayed negatively by others nor in his items.

Here are some final add-ons

that i don't want to complicate my earlier jumble with that whether important or not, are worth seeing. I just didn't know where to add them. Also I do not have a final interpretation of these things in the greater context:

An item I would like to touch on as well as an item that goes hand in hand with it (pun intended) is the spell Cherishing Fingers as well as Fingercreeper Ashes. Cherishing Fingers says "The dear fingers look after their mother, or perhaps that is merely what the mother wishes to believe." but Fingercreeper ashes says " They are ever so fond of their mothers at this tender age"

These two items kind of contradict each other, implying the fingers DO care about their mother. But the intentional doubt is interesting. Fingercreeper ashes, as well as Yuri being in his arms really makes it feel like they do care, but perhaps as they grow older they don't? Or this can help drive a "delusional" narrative. But fingercreeper ashes really make it seem like it goes both ways.

Also, Why are the ruins (Miyr) beneath Manus Metyr just an anagram for Ymir? Did he name them that? Did he name himself Ymir? Is it a cool coincidence that he pogged at when he found out? Is it just a random world building choice? This I literally cannot interpret.

I thought of the name change thing and that lead me to investigate every single rise on both maps to see if one could have been his but nothing seems likely. but on to Rabbath's rise

Anna's puppet body is there. Rabbath is a known sorcerer who was a spellmachinist. Being a machinist is very anti everything Ymir does and is into. Is Rabbath the person who designed the marionettes? That is a loose end we don't know the answer to and being a machinist is telling but this is extreme speculation. I saw someone suggest he and Ymir may have been either friends or rivals- both could give potential case for Ymir's puppet being there. Again. JUST speculative interpretations of this because we also do not know enough about Anna either. Rabbath also, like many other Rise owners, doesn't appear to be dead. Some Rises have a gravenmass in them which feels clear was the original owner. But Rabbaths is empty and something different about Rabbath's rise in comparison to most others is that all the candles in his rise are out. I don't know what this means. Why is Anna in a part of his rise that is nearly inaccessible? To me this makes it seem like she’s exclusively there to be kept safe as this place can only be accessed by us on torrent… literally no one else.

I'd like to add some additional, after the fact, thoughts and observations I have no place for as well

In terms of Jolán I’m confident her loyalty to Ymir stems from the Nox’s belief that one day their lord of night will come to them, bringing with them the age of stars and the fate that the Nox had been stripped of after their banishment. She refers to Ymir as her shining star and after he is gone she only sees darkness. I could very well see her believing Ymir is the promised lord of night as he so heavily believes in the fate of the stars and brings stars to her life personally.

But by all accounts the Nox hate the GW and were the ones who created a blade to slay its vassals, which Metyr is one of. Perhaps this is where Jolan and Anna disagreed. Perhaps this is why she is a puppet now. Anna may have stayed true to their beliefs where Jolan instead saw the promised liege and pledged her service to him. Again, anything with Anna is still speculation but it would make sense if she and Anna and the other swordhands of night were initially there for a reason as they are the only Nox in the lands of Shadow and wear fingerprint armor independent of their connection to Ymir. Perhaps the fingerslayer blade was made for Metyr, the source of the GWs words. Perhaps this is the cause of the injury on Metyrs chest. This is something I could get far too into speculation on though. But it is interesting to speculate on as the location of her injury is not somewhere she would have fingers, so likely not Ymir’s doing, and is also a real “going for the kill” location. Again, chew on this one as you will.

Cherishing Fingers: I thought about this A LOT and I wish it was easy for me to fit it into the upper main post. Cherishing Fingers is "one of Ymir's spells" so why isn't it in his bell bearing? We get it not when he dies but after. It isn't dropped with his death loot and it only shows up after we rest and it doesn't show up on his body it shows up at Yuri's grave. And I know you could say "Well characters like Rogiers items are gotten from where we last saw him sitting even though he's gone) but we already got all of Ymir's things. Literally 6 items worth of loot. This is intentionally somewhere else. So two theories. This is not Ymir's final item given to us but Yuris. The fingers no longer have to protect their mother and are no longer trapped in rebirth so they leave behind a spell after they too finally pass on. Theory 2, Ymir, after our fight, chooses to die by Yuri's side, at his child's grave, leaving behind a final spell to remember him by. Regardless there is a reason this spell is separate and special. It's description that can sew doubt, to me, is negated by the positive description on the fingercreeper ashes that confirm they do love their mother. This also being found at a fingercreepers grave is also very telling.

The caged fingercreepers: if you look close and really work your camera, there are a handful of cages only near Ymir's throne that have fingercreepers in them. Are they still alive? Are they in there for their safety or because Ymir thinks differently of them/they aren't as important to him as Yuri? I do not have a final interpretation of this but it's important to note here. I have my wide reaching headcanon about this of course but it isn't something I'm confident presenting the way I present these interpretations.

Ymir’s neck ruff: this is only coming up because I’m writing a full over the top clothing analysis for him, but this one is connected to the lore, not the independent character design choices and it’s actually quite interesting. Aside from its description as a flower, which I mentioned in my gender portion, it also uses the word dew, something that has a specific and loaded meaning in ER and there are a lot of important Dew items. The new item dewgem, being connected to sprites, the dewkissed herba and Celestial Dew from the eternal cities, and Blessed Dew and the icon shield depicting erdtree boons and a divine age. Because dewgem is very hornsent adjacent I'm more inclined to connect it to the latter two types and I think I'd like to connect it to them both at once instead of picking but feel free to side with either. I'm just telling you how I feel. The allusion to celestial dew and glowing like a star, mentioning fate in the night sky, and being the dew of absolution is all interesting and this would be one additional connection to Joláns adoration to him, seeing the resemblance and iconography of her stars on his person. Creating familiarity. His mentioning of redemption and desire to break the cycle of corrupt messages also ties well into the idea of absolution and new beginnings. He is obviously tied to the stars, but the ruff is gold much like the blessed dew items which are described as divine, depicting ideas of eternal prosperity and blessings which paint dew as a concept as something extremely symbolic and sacred. Dew in both forms represent a new age and gifts of that age- one being absolution and fate, the other prosperity and divinity. Ymir believes in all of these things. Unlike the Nox he values the Greater Wills goals and words. He wishes to help bring about a new age, guided by the stars, via the Greater Wills untainted words. So the connection to blessed dew wouldn't be "erdtree good" but moreso how dew was viewed during that time and to those who believed in it. It seems more like a nod to the prosperity possible in a new age with roots that are not tainted and mad. A motif intentionally conveying similar ideas that others already have positive connection to. (You thought that erdtree was good? Imagine a tree that isn't corrupt)

OKAY ANYWAYS THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!! If anyone stuck around for the whole thing I will be truly baffled but thank you if you did! Love Ymir with all my heart! if there are any typos or repetition please understand i really just kept going train of thought style here and its a lot to reread 4 times over to keep double checking as every time i got sidetracked.

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estcaligo · 4 months ago

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Nobody: Me at 3 AM: Glorious Masquerade represents the confrontation between polytheistic and monotheistic worldviews

Or "The Big Three of Olympus vs One Christian God" in the Glorious Masquerade event

Content Warning: Greek Mythology, religion, Christianity, Glorious Masquerade event spoilers

Note: I talk about things in this post from a researcher's point of view, in a descriptive and comparative manner mostly. Just some observations.

I've already discussed a similar concept before - Idia, Jade, and Sebek representing Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus, the "Big Three" in Greek mythology, the most powerful and important gods of Olympus - during the Harveston event. See the post here.

However, in the Glorious Masquerade, the situation becomes even more peculiar because the SSR characters are dorm leaders - those who are in charge. And then there's Rollo, who is twisted from Frollo.

Note: I will consider all sources of inspiration for Rollo, including the book and the musical, which were confirmed by Yana herself to be inspirations for Rollo.

What? Why? Who?

3 vs 1. The Big Three of Greek Pantheon vs The One God, who embodies 3 in 1 - the Father, the Son and the Spirit.

The Big Three are the three most powerful gods among the Olympians - Zeus, Poseidon and Hades.

Zeus commands the sky, lightning, kingship and summon any weather conditions.

Poseidon manipulates water, storms and earthquakes.

Hades has dominion over the dead and undead, darkness, earth-related disasters, and metals and jewels.

*By the way, lightning was considered just Zeus throwing a temper tantrum, and what happened when Malleus got angry? Right, he started throwing lightnings left and right.

And now we have Rollo. Twisted from Frollo, who, as we know was a religious man (especially in the book where he is a priest, not a minister).

And despite there being other characters, such as vice-president and the assistant, they aren't "real" or “important” characters like Rollo.

So we can say there is only one (1) main character in this event.

2. 7 Dorm Leaders vs 1 Head of the Council

As is well known, Ancient Greek mythology features many major gods, each controlling different aspects of life (or representing them, or serving as patrons). This makes Ancient Greek religion a polytheistic system - meaning it has multiple gods - akin to the Great Seven and the dorm system at NRC.

The Dorm Leader Council functions much like a small pantheon. Not to mention NRC is located on upper hills, which resembles a mountain (Olympus) if we look at the landscape of the Sage Island.

On the other hand, Christianity only has one God, making it monotheistic religion. There are multiple saints in Christianity, who are patrons of different aspects of life, however it is important to note that these saints do not control - they are more like the intercessors between man and God.

Even the NBC itself is focused on one Villain and has one statue in the yard, not the 7 (the "pantheon" of NRC). And NBC itself doesn't have Dorm system like NRC.

3. Oral vs Written

Greek religious tradition is primarily oral, with legends and stories passed down through generations by word of mouth.

In contrast, Christianity is predominantly a written religion, where the written canon holds great importance.

How is it important here?

Well, in this event specifically the NRC guys spend their time walking around and commenting on things. We learn some of their lore and thoughts on various topics through dialogue. Even Professor Trein reveals his past verbally telling about it. Naturally, it’s a game mechanism. But since we’re talking about such details….

On the other hand, the most important part of Rollo lore is found by the Big Three in written form - Rollo’s diary. It's also noted how Rollo prefers writing above all else. He writes in his diary, sends letters, and drafts invitations. While this may not apply to the NBC in general, since we're focusing on Rollo, this detail is worth considering as well.

4. Our guys vs That One

Another difference between the two religions is that the Greek gods had flaws that made them more similar to humans. They had tempers and they often held grudges. This made the followers of the religion not want to be like them but, instead learn from them and their shortcomings, frequently through fear.

In contrast to the flawed gods of Greek mythology, Jesus is portrayed as a man who is to be aspired to, more so than the Greek portrayal of a god; who the audience learns from (imitating in a way), rather than obeys.

Our NRC boys are someone we know and who we’re familiar with. We know their struggles and fears, their dark past. Even the guys in charge of each dorm - the Dorm Leaders - are not so distant from the regular students. Well, more of less.

Whereas Rollo is described by all the characters we’ve met at NBC (and even from his vignette) as someone who is amazing, excellent, wonderful and so…exemplementry. Rollo, at the same time, distances himself from everyone.

5. Vertical vs Horizontal

A small but interesting observation is that many monotheistic religions, including Christianity, often have a “vertical mindset” - symbolizing a relationship between the human and God.

In Christian cosmology, we often imagine a vertical world structure: Hell at the bottom, the human realm in the middle, and Heaven above.

In this event, we also experience vertical movement when things get serious. Initially, when it's peaceful and fun, we mostly walk around the town (mostly horizontal, not including the lower parts).

However, when the action begins, Rollo first sends us downward into the sewers. From there, we start moving upward. The ascent of the tower is highly symbolic, as we are literally ascending towards the sky where Rollo awaits us (with his “judgment”)

6. Masks

The whole masquerade theme is, of course, a nod to the cartoon and part of the game feature to get the characters to dress up.

But let’s remember that in Ancient Greece, masks played a significant role in theater, particularly in tragedies and comedies (twst features elements of both). In general, it is known that masks represent hidden nature, transformation, and more.

Interestingly, only our NRC squad wears masks and costumes. We even encountered some Royal Sword Academy students, but they were not given costumes (again, a game feature, but still noteworthy).

On the other hand, there's Rollo, who isn't wearing a mask or even a costume. He doesn’t need to. He is who he is, with no need to transform into something else, as he represents the One, in our comparison here.

What's even more interesting is that, despite not wearing a physical mask, Rollo is the one with ulterior motives in this event, and we only learn his true face later on. He metaphorically takes the mask off, even though he never wore one in the literal sense.

7. Catholic Guilt

The last but not least - Rollo's punishment, which, perhaps is the most fitting and cruel outcome for him. Rollo, after being defeated, expects harsh punishment because he is ruthless with himself and assumes others will treat him the same way. He failed and he expects to be punished. However our Big Three surprise him by concealing the truth and allowing others (the NBC mobs were the first to thank him for his bravery at the tower) to believe that Rollo was a hero. This situation forces Rollo into a state of internal torment, where he must live with the guilt of his actions while being praised for something he didn't truly do.

Rollo's punishment is psychological, forcing him to confront his guilt and shame in isolation. They choose leave him one on one with his Sin.

On the contrast, in Ancient Greek mythology punishments were often cruel and involved physical pain. One of the most popular example would be of course the myth about Prometheus, which, by the way involved Zeus.

And the way Big Three dealt with Rollo was truly cruel in its own way.

(from an interesting article about Greek Gods and punishment - here)

Fin

I left out some obvious notes like Malleus having horns, Rollo hating on magic etc.

Naturally, there may be other details I haven’t mentioned, so feel free to add any additional insights!

#the semester has just started but I'm already in the mood #was fighting the urge to add Comedia dell'Arte masks here #twisted wonderland #twst analysis #glorious masquerade #disney twisted wonderland #rollo flamme #malleus draconia #idia shroud #azul ashengrotto #twst spoilers #tw religion

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sunboki · 1 year ago

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KOREA'S MOST WANTED (DEAD OR ALIVE) : SUNBOKI

🎥 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader ( with hints of other attraction ((mainly 3racha cause im a whore)) no poly )

TROPE. non-idol au, criminal! au, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut

WORD COUNT. 6.8k & 33 minute read

WARNINGS. smut, blood, guns/weapons, shoot-out, murder, mentions of drugs and poison, descriptive violence, suggestiveness, manipulation, death(not major characters), cursing

PLAYLIST

AUG'S NOTES. a weird spin to a not-quite mafia au but i love the lore.. enjoy. if you decide to read, feedback is always appreciated!!

SYNOPSIS. Eight notoriously wanted criminals work solo. They always have. Except when their dark work and concealed identities are put at risk, they find themselves with no other choice but to work together—and what better place to do so than the back fields of a house in the middle of nowhere? The location was ideal, until you open the doors of your grandparents barn and accidentally meet Korea’s most wanted.

or alternatively

In which stumbling in the wrong place at the wrong time leaves you face to face with some of the most-wanted criminals in all of South Korea.

CRIMINAL #0001 — BAHNG, CHRISTOPHER.

CRIMINAL RECORD

Christopher has been convicted of illegal weapon trafficking on eighteen counts of federal offenses. He is notoriously dangerous. Please proceed with caution.

⭑ REWARD

⎯ CRIMINAL FILES (additional cases)

The only thing illuminating your walk to the barn is your phone light and the hardly helpful moon peeking between heavy clouds.

You’ve done this a billion times, but tonight there’s just something ..unsettling. You can’t put your finger on it.

Shaking the thought from mind, you fiddle with the small lock hitched onto wide, dark red barn doors, untangling rusted chains like routine. That is, until you hear a sound. An unusual sound, an unnerving sound.

By that time you’d already pushed open the doors, and the weight of what sat in front of you—the weight of what was responsible for the sound—made you feel faint.

“Who.. Who are you people?”

Every October you visit your grandparents (or whenever your schedule isn’t jam-packed, but most often in October) when the leaves are deep orange and red, dappling gravel driveways and leaving the once abundant trees bare of their spring greenery.

The weather, though overcast in the autumn season, never stays gray for too long if you wake up early enough. Your grandpa taught you that, how to witness the early morning view before being covered by clouds.

On this occasion, however, you certainly didn’t plan on waking up early, especially not while rooming in your comfortable old bedroom.

Your grandparents house, despite being in the middle of nowhere, was so homey, so familiar. You’d be sure to soak up as much of this easiness as you could before returning back to life, savor the moments the best you could.

“Have you heard?” Your grandmother utters, fingers expertly dicing fruits, gaze glued to the TV.

“Grandma, I just got here, so no I haven’t heard anything,” You laugh, dragging your luggage through the hallway while the drone of the latest news feature serves as background noise. Probably another celebrity split-up, you assume.

Surely, considering the stubborn woman’s frantic waving once you come back into the living room, beckoning you to watch with her.

“Look! They’re wrecking havoc everywhere recently. Folks are calling them ‘Korea’s most wanted.’” Shaking her head repeatedly, she points at the screen displaying a churned building left to nothing but ash.

You hum absentmindedly, listening to the reporter talk.

“Using the title the media has given, this building, once a printing firm, has been dissolved into ashes overnight. The attack is said to have been the doing of ‘The Arsonist’, a member of one of the most wanted people on the radar…”

“If you run into one of them,” Having completely forgotten about the other presence in the room, you flinch. “Call your Grandma, I’ll swat ‘em over the head with my shovel.”

Gesturing with an imaginary shovel in hand, you can’t help but laugh at her silliness, quickly shaking the lingering thought away.

Korea’s most wanted here? Here’s probably the last place they’d show up, too busy massacring the big cities to care about this old house.

Resorting to scurrying onto a kitchen stool, you fill in the nosy old lady on what life has been like, how work has been treating you, and all the other nosy questions your grandmother thinks up slicing apples.

By the time you look out the window, the sky is almost fully dark, until a sudden flash of headlights tells the household grandpa’s back from work, hopping from his rickety blue pickup truck to greet you.

There’s a smile gracing his wrinkled features, regarding you like you were still eight years old. He’s a man of few words, but when he speaks, everyone listens. Similarly, when he tells you he loves you—something he barely does—the moment, whatever it may be, is special.

Settling in for the night, you help wash dishes and insist the stoic woman takes a seat before she breaks her back leaning over the sink, which she rolls her eyes and ignores no less.

Not like you expected anything else, she’d wash these dishes till the end of time knowing her.

“Y/n, dear, would you mind making sure the barn lamp is shut off? I’m worried it’ll catch fire if I forget.”

Speaking of the end of time, you hadn’t stepped foot in the barn in what felt to be decades, too occupied with the house and town to remember that ramshackle building outside.

Of course you said yes, deciding this was a prime opportunity to not forget in the process of slipping on a sweater to help battle the cold, approaching the barely visible building.

You think you hear someone talking but choose to ignore it, pretending it was the wind or something along those lines. It’s autumn and you’re plenty far away from suburban areas, so most likely an animal lie responsible.

That was, until you pry open the barn doors.

Immediately, a stranger with cat-like features has a serrated dagger held to your throat.

Closing your eyes instinctively, you wait to feel the cold metal breaking skin, hesitantly cracking open an eye to meet the attacker’s chilling stare boring into the side of your face.

He takes a few seconds to exchanges glances with another in the dimly lit space then back to your stock-still frame. Briefly, you feel your phone get pulled from your pocket but don’t budge, worried one wrong movement would automatically have the cold metal slitting your throat.

“Walk. Make the slightest move and nobody finds your body, understood?”

Shakily, you nod, feebly inching forward before getting shoved onto the container your grandpa kept extra tools in, splinters piercing the back of your thighs.

Wonderingly, your eyes flicker to each stranger surrounding you. Counting eight in total, some taller, some shorter, you gulp, outnumbered by a large margin you’re sure would be nearly impossible trying to escape from.

Without exchanging a word, one of the shorter, more muscular men steps forward, seeming to inspect you. His rough grip finds your chin, jerking your head from side to side then up to meet his honeyed brown eyes. They’re surprisingly kind compared to his demeanor.

“She’s pretty. Might earn us a good penny if you want, Bahng. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” Cocking his brows, you swiftly rip your head out of his hand, wrinkling your nose with disgust.

A frothing dread fills your gut, and you think for a moment letting that man with the dagger kill you off would’ve been a better doom.

“Hands off, Bin. If we wanted to get a price we need her to be in good condition.” A voice from behind this so-called “Bin” responds, and you feel the overwhelming urge to hurl.

They’re talking about selling you, like you’re not even human. A pretty porcelain object available at their disposal.

Good condition? You feel sick. You can’t see the man who replied, but you doubt it’d make your gut feel any more uncomfortable.

“Aw c’mon guys,” Another voice you finally spot to your right interjects, sporting chubbier cheeks and appearing quite out of place in this group. “You’re scaring her, go easy.”

Bin scoffs. “Should she be comfortable? We’re gonna kill her anyway, Jisung. Right, Bahng?”

God. Who is this Bahng guy that’s apparently in charge and why does “Bin” want you dead so badly? Didn’t he just call you pretty, or were you blacking out?

“..Right, Bahng?”

Bin falters, backing up as the face belonging to “Bahng” ushers him to the side.

Bahng, at least in the scarce lighting, is scarily handsome. Dyed hair nearly an auburn shade, a strong jaw, and calculating, dusky brown eyes that appear equally as kind as Bin’s.

You’ve learned to not trust the deceit.

Suddenly, a thought strikes.

Any minute now your grandparents will realize how long you’ve been gone and start to worry.

Your heart drops.

No. Don’t come here, stay in the house. No no no no.

Automatically, words stumble out of your mouth.

“Please- kill me, sell me, I don’t care. My grandparents- they’re gonna come here, I can’t have them here. If they find me here I... Please.” Chest rising and falling unevenly, you continuously glance at the door.

Waiting, waiting.

“Please spare them. I don’t want them to get hurt.”

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t make any expression apparent on that handsome face of his. Observing.

You’re a spectacle, an interesting one at that.

“And if I spare you, what do I get in return, hm?”

You’re caught off guard.

In return? What does he mean in return?

Think. Think. What the hell could someone like him want? He has enough money, you’re sure.

Fine. Make it broad.

“Anything. Anything, I promise.” Pleading, you anxiously shuffling atop the box, swearing to have heard the sound of moving outside. Somewhere behind the two of you someone chokes a laugh. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Poking his tongue into his cheek thoughtfully, he eventually signals to the others before you’re being escorted through the back door by a not-so gentle Bin and a very much apologetic Jisung, sparing a glance back to the home you’d only seen for one day.

And if what Bin said about killing you was true, you wonder if you’ll ever see it again.

.. .

Ducking into one of the two cars parked directly behind the barn, you’re assigned the passenger seat, accompanied by Bahng who’s driving, Jisung, and a long-haired boy sitting beside him in the backseat.

They’re all strikingly beautiful opposed to the blood you’re sure has stained their hands, especially the one next to Jisung with features resembling that of a prince. Everything about him seems too elegant to do any harm. You know that’s a lie.

Mapping out your surroundings, you shuffle in the leather seat, waiting until all three men get situated to slam the door ajar and run. Second instinct, no thoughts, just survival.

You run, run and run as fast as you can while the thump of shoes echo behind you. Far away, you have to get away. Get away get away get aw— a force slams into you from behind and you go toppling down.

Gasping as the air mercilessly ripped from your lungs returns, your vision adjusts, squirming thanks to the identity keeping you still. Bahng has you trapped below him, breath labored, effortlessly intimidating.

“Let— go of me!” You yell, voice betraying the utter desperation overtaking every fiber of your being.

He holds you down, meeting your eyes without fail as you struggle and shout. Shouting and screaming so loud into the darkness in fact, that the man finally covers your mouth with a hand as you tremble, watery gaze fixated on his. Burning, venomous hatred.

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option, sweetness. So you either walk back to the car or I go through things the hard way. What will it be?”

He thumbs the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead, hand finally pulling off your mouth.

Hypocrite.

“Fuck you.” You spit, and the man’s brows lift, lips pulled into an amused smile as he wipes his cheek.

“Hard way it is.”

Instantaneously, you’re hauled over his shoulder, not straining a bit despite the incessant kicking and pounding of your fists against his shoulder.

And just to prove how much he wholeheartedly deserved that fuck you, he made sure to lock the vehicle twice right in front of your face, receiving an equally as distasteful glare through the windshield in return.

The car ride was quiet, only interrupted by him asking if the air was too cold which you responded to with the middle finger. Jisung giggled.

Wee hours of morning peer through thick clouds, the road briefly illuminated by your headlights, corn stalks for miles lining either side. A barely palpable trace of life noticeable in a church’s steeple in the distance—once stark white, now stained and evidently aged.

Looking in the mirror, you locate the other vehicle tailing, assumed to be carrying the additional boys. Considering where your lone source of communication may be hidden (a.k.a your phone), you strain trying to spot it in your peripheral.

No use. Just you and this shit-hole of a situation.

Either way, what would you even say? “Please help me I’ve been kidnapped by eight of Korea’s most wanted criminals”? Yeah, they’ll definitely believe that.

There’s a hum from the prince-like man.

“This is the perfect place for a murder,” He speaks so nonchalantly, as if he referred to the weather and not killing someone.

Chills spread along your arms.

Jisung chuckles. “You’re right, no traces at all. Either way, even if someone did find them they’d likely already be rotten.”

You’re nauseous.

“Say, do you know how long it takes for a body to rot out here?” He asks, and your dizziness keeps you from realizing he’s referring to you, stomach threatening to spill all of its contents any second now.

And they expect you to know that?

Your silence leads to Jisung earning a smack from his backseat companion, scolding him hushedly.

Bahng stays quiet, one hand holding the wheel and the other splayed on the center console. Occasionally though you’ll see his eyes flit elsewhere, or maybe it’s your imagination.

Car eventually falling mute with a few passengers sleeping, you get close to doing the same before the harsh jerk of the car stirs everyone wide awake, clutching onto their seats.

You’d swerved into a small expanse of corn, wheels crushing the crops beneath them. Instantly the three reach under their seats, instinctively grabbing out pistols and pushing open the doors slowly, bodies crouched low.

Preparing to hide to the best of your ability, a hand on your arm keeps your movement at bay, discovered to belong to Bahng.

“Just keep in mind what Jisung said, by the time anyone finds you you’ll be rotted, pretty thing.” He sends you a sickeningly sweet smile, cocking the hammer of his gun and disappearing out the door where you hear someone shout: “I fucking knew we were being followed!” Prior to the loud ricochet of bullets being fired.

You duck down in the passenger seat, attempting to be as small and forgettable as possible out of sight. That is until a gunshot strikes the side of the car, narrowly bypassing where you’re curled up on the floorboard.

An involuntary scream escapes you, and your palm clamps over your mouth, shuddering and shaking like a leaf.

It’s a natural reaction, shrinking away, too horrified to act. So when your door is violently swung open, you prepare for the worst before recognizing Bin’s face, who legitimately rips you from the seat and drags you away.

Stopping beside a minimal clearing, you observe he isn’t carrying a weapon of any kind, a factor that makes your hopes slightly plummet. Granted, it’s not that you don’t think he’d be capable of defending himself (and you), but his fists against a gun didn’t sound too promising.

Swiftly instructed to not move, he races off, effectively tackling a man to the ground and leaving a pool of blood seeping where he lay.

Except, Bin abruptly evades your vision, leaving you to notice the prince-like boy in his stead, waving his arms and yelling something you strain to recognize.

“Behind you!” He had been shouting.

Your soul fills with dread.

In an instant you brace for impact, ears picking up the whirring of an object against the wind before the crack of a bat makes contact with your attackers head. The man goes down like a sack of bricks.

Bin, holding a nail embedded baseball bat propped on his shoulder, appeared just on time.

He had a streak of blood smeared across his cheek which you guessed belonged to someone else, and his knuckles lay bruised and torn despite the massive shit-eating grin slapped on his face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asks, voice hoarse and rough despite never looking more alive. It’s terrifying.

Shaken, you give yourself a once over, hurriedly shaking your head. He barks a laugh.

Gunshots eventually dying off, the nine of you regroup, some suffering minor injuries and others standing untouched.

Among them, the dagger-wielding criminal is one of the untouched. You’re not surprised.

Jisung is cussing wildly, leg ripped up pretty bad while leant against said dagger-wielding criminal, sending his counterpart a sour glare.

“Those motherfuckin’ assholes need ‘ta learn some fuckin’ manners..” Jisung spews curses, lips pulled up in a sneer as the others help him into the bullet-embedded car.

Reversing out of the densely packed foliage, no one dares say a word the entire rest of the drive, preoccupied with going back to their interrupted sleep or blankly gazing into the night.

The destination, appearing to be a company building by its exterior (and the lack of daylight), easily averages the size of an extreme warehouse. You curve into an enormous parking garage, every other space occupied by some multimillion dollar sports car.

Upon walking inside though, you’re left in the main entrance with Jisung while the remainder slip into a separate room.

His leg is bandaged thanks to “Jeongin”, whom, after briefly seeing them in brighter lighting, you guess is the youngest-looking one. Light hair and a smile you’re certain breaks all law-breaking guidelines.

Arrangement of chairs mimicking that of a doctor’s office, you guess the decorum is used to disguise what actually goes on here.

Clearing your throat, you debate on speaking about the question burning a hole through your skull.

“Why do you want me to live?”

Managing to haul himself backwards on a chair, Jisung shrugs.

“Why not? It’d be fun having someone other than those boneheads around.”

Typical Jisung reaction, you assume. This is the same dude bringing up murder like it’s a daily occurrence after all.

“Plus, we’re normally workin’ solo. Some circumstances forced us to work together.” He absentmindedly waved, and you bite the urge to ask about these so-called “circumstances”.

With Jisung, you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. You have a feeling asking him about it though would only lead to a response along the lines of: “Hey, it adds to the fun, right?” as if murder was a leisurely hobby.

You can’t help but feel baffled with how casually he talks about the additional men. Friends, as if they’re friends. Not like they would be, Jisung said it himself, “circumstances” pulled them together.

However, the danger they’d pose working as a team would be unreal. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

Goosebumps crawl upon your forearms.

"Y’know, I used to protect people like you." Han Jisung, whom you now recognized as The Arsonist, tilted his head to the side when he said that.

Strikingly beautiful, just like the others. Soft, round cheeks. Dark, soulful eyes and pursed, puffy lips.

You recall your grandmother telling you some of the prettiest flowers carry the most poison. Now it makes sense.

Blinking, you choose your words rather carefully.

This man, the one who upon first glance looks like he couldn’t harm a fly, burned down a printing firm yesterday. The same man alongside seven other notorious criminals discussing your fate.

Korea’s most wanted.

“Why’d you stop? Protecting people, I mean.” Coming out mumbled, you watch him click his tongue and change posture, not phased whatsoever.

It was a genuine question, considering whatever job he had before —if it came down to protecting— seemed to be something linked to the law. Unusual, for a criminal or his level.

“I got bored,” He yawned, lower lip jutting out.

Talk about a juxtaposition to his psychotic tendencies.

Bored. Han Jisung, The Arsonist, got bored of being a good guy.

It gave you a whole new perspective to insane.

“..You ask a bunch of questions, huh. I guess that makes sense since you might die- no! Not die- well, I’m not sure but- you’ll be fine!”

Wow Jisung. You seriously suck at convincing.

Oh how you wish your grandma would appear with her shovel right about now. Scratch that, you wish she would’ve swatted them over the head much earlier than now.

“Alright, but where will we keep her while Bahng decides on the cover up?” The seven go quiet, and if it wasn’t for the whirring of a fan overhead you would’ve guessed they were telepathically communicating, few sparing hasty glances at each other, waiting for someone to speak up.

Changbin was the one who asked, but he didn’t continue, nor even meet Bahng’s eyes despite his normal, boisterous behavior.

If there was one person they all had a running respect (and fear) of, it would be Bahng. He’d brought up the idea of working together, and he’d be the one leading in result.

Freckle Boy (the name The Hitman had came up with before learning Felix’s’ name) opens his mouth.

“I can—“

“She’ll stay with me.” Bahng interjects, and no one lifts a finger.

Changbin sees the blond’s pinched expression through his peripheral.

“But I have an extra—“

“You heard me, Felix. She stays with me,” He sternly repeats, and the younger deflates, mumbling something to himself after Hyunjin sends him a reassuring nod.

The atmosphere eased up slightly opposed to how suffocating it had been earlier, enough to where the men occupying their individual chairs took deep breaths of air they hadn’t know they’d been holding.

The door opens and they disperse in different directions while Bahng lags behind, speaking to Jeongin about something hushed.

You, on the other hand, are greeted with a rather sympathetic smile from the blond, telling you whatever they talked about wasn’t good.

From your right, Bin clears his throat, effectively giving you an unprecedented heart-attack.

“For the record, we weren’t planning to sell you.”

A grin grows on your face, taking this sweeter opportunity to pick some fun. You’re stuck here anyway, right?

“We weren’t? I think you were.”

He huffs, crossing muscular arms over his chest stubbornly. Behind him, a neighboring coffee-haired man snickers, earning Bin’s slap on the shoulder and a quiet “Yah.. Seungmin..” That completely sabotage any chance of taking him seriously.

“..I wasn’t.”

Mhm, definitely. Like the tips of his ears weren’t blood red.

The whiplash you’re getting from being treated you like a rag doll earlier becomes quite ironic.

Wasting time incessantly teasing the man, it’s not until he’s lead off by Bahng that you quiet down, awkwardly shifting your weight to either heel.

“..So?” You interrupt the silence, only given a jerk of Bahng’s head as a signal to follow. Talk about vague.

Overflowing with endless questions, he finally stops and turns to you, brows furrowed.

Attractive. My god he’s attractive.

“Would you just tell me where we’re-“You’re staying in my room for the time being.”

To say you felt shocked barely brushed the surface of your internal wasp nest, endlessly buzzing and swarming. His room? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“I mean,” He notes, looking amused now. “Unless you plan on staying in the other rooms with cameras and giving security a show then—“

“Fine.”

Sending you a smug grin, it’s hard not feeling bewildered as he rounds a corner, revealing one, the fact that he has literal guards standing on either side of the double doors, and two, that his “room” is the short story of a penthouse.

Wow.

.. .

Turning off the ignition, Changbin stuffs the keys in his pocket upon slipping inside, scrunching his nose at the sight before him.

“Fuck dude, you’re a tank.” The man groans, eyeing Chris who’s currently doing handstand push-ups on wooden parallettes.

When Chris is nowhere to be found, he’s here, hidden away in this partially abandoned gymnastics studio on the outskirts of Incheon. Small, though with all materials intact.

Occasionally teenagers would come roaming around, having heard of hauntings and gruesome murders they want to stick their noses in. It’s plausible, sure, the murder part at least.

Changbin didn’t believe in hauntings, because no horrific spirit ever dared deter him from enjoying his job, over and over. He didn’t have remorse, he didn’t feel.

Life was easier that way, without emotion driving your decisions.

In fact, he can’t recall the last time being a hitman scared him. Call it crazy, but if you think about it in terms of “eliminating those that shouldn’t be there”, he’s doing the world a favor.

He wouldn’t tell Bahng that for many reasons.

“And your mouth is still as bad as usual.” The older says through gritted teeth, slowly lowering his legs, coated in a sheen of sweat that greasily muss strands of hair.

He barks a laugh. “‘Can’t fix it.”

“That’s for sure,” Chris responds, grabbing the towel The Hitman held out with a thankful pat on the back.

Arranging the equipment back into its designated places, Changbin leans against the doorframe, brows lifted curiously.

“She’s sleeping, if you’re wondering.”

Telepathically, the man answers his unspoken question, referring to you who he imagines is prettily slumped in Chris’ bed.

Prettily. Did he say prettily?

Forget it.

Unknown to both your name and whereabouts, you begrudgingly pull the comforter closer over your head, successfully blocking the sunlight for a few more minutes of sleep. Your entire body is sore, and a numbing buzz has settled in your head, drowning out any cognitive ability to think.

Well, the extra time is amazing until your bladder decides to sabotage you.

Blindly blundering off the mattress, you idly navigate around, blinking a foggy haze from your vision.

Step, step, and then thump! You slam right into something—someone.

Finally granted a clear view, you swear your brain short-circuited.

It’s Bahng, staring down at you with a towel wrapped around his neck while water droplets cling to his skin—to his chest—that you notice is quite bare at the moment.

“Christ— Jesus—“ Slapping a hand over your eyes, you take multiple strides backwards, feet stumbling prior to hands grasping your wrists.

Easing you up right, he kindly leads your sleep-consumed form into the bathroom, big hands momentarily maneuvering your hips to the side on his way out.

Effectively stalling his movements, you silently drag him back closer to you, thumbs reaching up to smoothing his deep eye-bags.

He freezes, words he planned to say cut off.

His eyelids flutter shut in contentment, and in those tender seconds, you stand there, palms delicately cupping his cheeks, relaxing the hard lines of his face whilst steam gives the mirror a bleary cast.

Any other situation and you would’ve admitted yourself into a psych ward, but the alarm clock on his nightstand reading 7:18AM told you whatever you did next was all a lucid dream.

“You don’t sleep much.. do you?” Softly mumbling, he hums against your touch, own hand holding yours against his face.

Bahng cracks a barely there smile.

“Hard sleeping when the world’s after you,” He comments, remark laced with humorless hilarity. You can’t say you disagree.

Although, most good things—all good things—end far too quickly. Because when Changbin bursts through the door, voice choked in his throat, you hesitate your movements.

“.. Just uh, wanted to say the car’s waiting- I mean, the car’s ready for you. Yeah. Bye.” Awkwardly shuffling, he made a direct beeline for the door.

Never in your life did you expect a Hitman to be so awkward. And not just a Hitman, thee Hitman, Bin. Who, although you’d never say it to his face, definitely stuttered.

Unfortunately forced to separate, you’re handed one of his jackets once you managed to convince Bahng to let you come along.

Taking the elevator to the parking garage, an assistant who (you assume) routinely fetches the keys to an otherworldly expensive Lamborghini bows low, greeting either of you with a mandatory please-don’t-hurt-me smile.

You don’t ask where you’re headed, knowing the answer would only lead to more questions instead.

Bahng’s like that, you’ve discovered. Unpredictable to everyone but himself. Private.

Alternatively, compared to what you had imagined (something like a shed or a slaughter-house), he pulled into the gravel driveway of an old home, wooden docks on the roof sticking in strange directions, evidently battered from years of storm turmoil.

Sporting a confused expression yourself, he steps from the scissor doors, ushering you to follow suit.

A bit out of place, you decided. It’s not every day you witness a Lamborghini parked in front of a house like this.

“We’re visiting my grandmother, I visit every week.” He announces, and you could’ve seriously bet money on how uncharacteristic that move was.

This man, the man who ran disappeared at ungodly hours of night with unknown intentions, the man who killed with no remorse, was visiting his grandmother.

First Bin and now Bahng. What a wild card.

Living up to the title, Bahng couldn’t have been more opposing to his usual demeanor, shrugging off his coat and shoes at the doorway and fixing Barley tea for the short woman residing in her rocking chair.

Struggling to unzip his jacket that’s massive size engulfs your frame, you curiously explore, noting the sheer normality.

No weapons, no apparent knowledge of Bahng’s illegal activity patterning the household.

In this house, it’s just a grandmother and her grandson. Not Bahng, but Chris.

The name sounds strange on your tongue.

She wholeheartedly welcomed you in, scolding him for his prominent scars and holding hands that had unforgivable violence wedged between fingernails.

Somehow, watching him felt like betrayal. And although you doubt his grandmother would love him any less despite the gruesome reality, to know so much occurred behind the scenes made things, well, uncomfortable.

You be sure to introduce yourself, spending a good hour and a half entertaining the wrinkled woman before bidding your farewells and returning to familiar stifling tension on the drive home.

Your piling conscious suggests you say something, but you second guess yourself, ultimately garnering the courage after many failed attempts of making small talk once you both returned back to his room.

He’s wearing glasses now, and you swear you’ve never seen someone so unbearably beautiful in your life. Hell, him merely breathing has any comprehensible phrase disappearing instantaneously.

“Have you told anyone about what you do?” You start, causing him to lean over from his place on the side of the mattress, fiddling with something on the nightstand.

You crane to hear his response.

“Sometimes it’s best to lie to keep both parties happy.”

…That’s a no.

“Then, Chris, would you rather be happy living a lie or sad knowing someone’s honest truth?”

Chris.

Though his real name, the words still sound foreign, especially aloud.

He seems to have felt the same, head snapping your direction.

Grinning.

“And what do you know about lying, sweetness?”

“It’s not what I know, it’s what you want to know.” You scoot closer to him, mimicking his cocky smile. “Here’s an example, would you be happy not knowing I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, or sad hearing that I didn’t plan to tell you?”

A low chuckle.

“Did you learn the manipulation part from Minho?”

“Is it working?”

Eyes flickering back and forth from his lips to his eyes, you find yourself lingering centimeters apart, both intoxicated on each bated breath.

“A little bit,” He whispers, unwavering stare flickering to your parted lips before he pulls the glasses off his face and tilts his head to capture your lips.

You hastily climb onto the bed, fingers tangled in his tousled curls that peer from straight hair.

New, but not. As if you’ve kissed him all your life.

Working down your neck, his warm grip eases your legs apart, transitioning from kneading the flesh of your inner thighs to your ass.

“Oh— fuck.” You sigh out, delicious pressure applied right where you needed him most, stirring a deep wave of pleasure radiating throughout your entire body.

The Gunsman has you wrapped around his finger. A man whose power owns guards that stand in front of his seemingly normal door, a man whose power leaves you helplessly entangled in his every move, neck accessorized in his love bites.

Its wrong. Everything is hopelessly wrong.

You can’t get enough.

.. .

Index dragging across the fabric of sheets, your attention bursts alive, body jarring in a hold, someone else’s hold.

Bahng’s hold.

His head is tucked into your neck, arms hugging your bare back against his equally bare body. Bahng feels like comfort, home.

You never thought you’d be referring to a criminal when you said that.

Adjusting, you manage to roll over, admiring his ever kissable lips puckered in a pout, bed-hair forming strange shapes in the side of his pillow before mesmerizing brown eyes begin fluttering open.

Quickly rolling back around, you attempt at pretending to be asleep to no avail, because Bahng buries his face closer to the nape of your neck, sighing a lengthy groan.

Hands exploring you absentmindedly, he ensures to squeeze your chest at least once, otherwise keeping a tender touch settled on your tummy.

“G’morning…” He grumbles hoarsely, barely awake prior to his phone buzzing on the nightstand and his hushed “fuck” earning a giggle from you.

Caller ID: Hwang Hyunjin, the screen reads.

Without even a proper warning, he’s simultaneously thrown into a shark tank the moment the call’s accepted.

So long for the morning afterglow.

“It’s ready,” The Physic utters, and the soft fizzing of chemicals in the background do nothing to cease his foaming pit of guilt.

Grateful you couldn’t see the tight-lipped expression he burns the wall with, he grimaces, sparing you a longing glance.

So peaceful, so beautiful.

This world truly is cruel.

Rising to his feet, he throws on a white button-up, adorned by one of the many black trench coats lining his closet. Discreet, convenient.

Reminding you to stay in bed till he gets back, he finds his footsteps faltering on the way down to the lab.

Bahng, Christopher Bahng, The Gunsman, is nervous.

You’ve really done something to him.

Although, before he can make a move Felix pries the door ajar, and from how he furiously chews his bottom lip immediately answers Chris’ question.

The final part of their cover-up? Getting you back.

Because everyone, including himself, knew he’d fall in love. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t, wouldn’t dare put you through that.

Wafting fumes invade his nostrils entering (essentially) Hyunjin’s lair, multiple cloths layered in a clear box.

“Chloroform, I messed with it a bit. It’s not concentrated enough to be lethal. It’ll just put her out for a little bit.” He pats the top of the box, tugging medical gloves off ringed fingers.

From across the room, Chris can feel eyes on him.

“And how do you know if it won’t kill her?” The person asks, Changbin asks, critiquing gaze fixated on Chris despite regarding Hyunjin.

“Because I tested it? Since when did you care?” Moodily, The Physic cross his arms.

“Since now.”

“Why? Weren’t you the one who wanted to sell her?”

Chris can smell the uprising tension from a mile away.

“Because I’m allowed to care about someone! Am I not, your fucking highness?” Changbin shouts, but hidden by Hyunjin’s irked facade, Chris notices the slight tug of his lips, the peeking amusement.

Turns out Chris wasn’t the only one falling.

What a twist of events.

Interrupting their face-off, he hoists the moderately heavy box up, curtly nodding to Hyunjin.

Maneuvering around the warehouse back toward your room, he fastens a mask onto his face, spreading a few separate cloths into a smaller container.

Felix and Hyunjin’s doing, Chloroform cloths.

There were a few recommendations. Minho suggested knocking you out and going about, Seungmin with the grand idea of blackmailing you into leaving, and Jisung who wanted to keep you here.

Chloroform it was.

Returning to his bedroom, he finds himself understanding Changbin’s anger the longer he watches you, drifted back asleep, angel-like.

Fuck.

This hurts.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he delicately caresses the skin of your cheek, squinting to marvel, to study. The way your eyebrows furrow, exhaling a big breath. Infatuating.

“Can I take you to my favorite place?” He inquires, and you dazedly roll around, small frown gracing oh so tempting lips, swollen from the night before.

“Your favorite place..?”

Even your voice is infatuating. Dreamy.

Chris hums his reply.

Lifting yourself up, you agree, letting him take care of you, brush your teeth for you, undress you. Things oddly mundane for a person like him to want to do, but oddly sweet all the same.

Not sexual, but intimate. Dearly, dearly intimate.

The drive winds along backroads, slowing to take a right down a barren, rocky road situated between countless trees. In the distance you make out the faint glow of light, a clearing.

Upon breaching the forest, your expectations are instantly blown away.

Sundown, evidence of how long you’d slept (and how long Chris had kept you up), gloriously paints the sky dazzling hues.

No picture could encompass this view.

Putting the car into park, you perch on the hood, legs aimlessly swinging, breeze idly passing by.

Admire.

“I asked Jisung, but now I wanna hear it from you.”

He stays quiet.

“Why did you want me to live?” You mischievously pique, fingers drumming.

Bahng approaches nearer, turning to stand between your legs where you sit.

“I like you,” He nonchalantly responds, and the overwhelming need to push him further, dance over that thin line becomes irresistible.

“Only ‘like’ me?”

Licking his lips, he unexpectedly tilts your head to meet him. Tender, gentle.

Your heart hurts. Because unlike previously, this kiss feels regretful, feels sad.

Your arms, once clutching onto that trademark trenchcoat, wrap around his neck, his finding purchase upon your hips.

Yet, you could tell it wasn’t greed driving him. Your earlier ravenous desire, your lust, was gone.

Instead, he was carving you into his memories, starting with his lips. He’d already done so with his hands, with his body the night before.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, and before you could ask any questions he forces your attention back to his eyes, swimming with an emotion you didn’t know Chris could exhibit.

Hurt.

Inexplicable hurt overwhelm that stare. Creases his always-taut brows.

“Just trust me, please.”

Please.

“Chris,” You hesitate.

There’s been that gnawing sensation ever since getting roped into this circus. Because this was only temporary, undoubtedly headed to an inexplicable conclusion.

You wonder if perhaps this is your end, your end with Bahng, with Chris.

Someone you’ve fallen in love with. So, so fucking hard.

And from the way he’s looking at you, it looks like he has too.

But you trust him. You trust him more than you had ever trusted anyone before, and so you nod.

“Chris, I love..”

Your volume dissolves upon the cloth being held to your face, eyes rolling back into your head as you fall limp into his arms, fingertips still touching his skin.

“..Love ….you.”

He kisses you once more, slower this time, cradling you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I love you.”

Speaking softly to avoid his pain betraying him, Bahng carefully situates you into the passenger seat, ignoring the drone of the engine from how rapidly the speedometer climbs. Numb to anything, everything.

The Aventador’s screen alights with a call.

“What,” He rasps, gleaming traffic lights casting red and green shadows across the car’s black interior.

“Is she...?” Felix asks, and Chris eases slightly. Subtle shuffling in the background reveals the others presence, awaiting the bottom line.

“Yeah.”

The freckled boy hums in response, dejection apparent.

Nevertheless, not a peep sounds, unusual for the usually rowdy crowd. Chris can tell some of them walk away, some staying.

Corn stalks ghosting past signify his location.

He hangs up.

He’ll apologize later.

.. .

Waking up inside your grandparents house feels like a fever dream, like your body isn’t your own and when you open your eyes you’ll still be snuggled into Chris’s arms.

But you aren’t, and you’re also violently kicked out of that fantastical daydream when your grandmother shows up, all smiles, no “I’m so relieved to see you’re safe” or “where did you go?” apparent on any of her features.

“Why, you never told me you had a boyfriend!” She smacks your arm and you flinch back, wearing an expression only comprehensible as puzzlement.

Perhaps Chris payed them? Bought their silence and hid from the law in return?

But that’s not your grandparents. They wouldn’t keep their mouths shut about something like this.

So what the hell did he do?

“The handsome young man who drove you here from the airport!” Waddling over to point an accusing finger at the doorway, your head frantically snaps in every direction.

Your suitcases are zipped up, and no evidence of you ever even arriving here shows around the room.

That is until you notice your phone has miraculously returned on your nightstand.

Immediately swiping to scroll through messages, your thumb stops, lingering over a message from an unknown number.

Pausing, you click.

Don’t come looking for me, but if you need me, text this number.

You would’ve found the text eerily creepy if you didn’t have an idea of who sent it.

You do.

Because there’s no one else that says ‘don’t come looking for me’ and ‘if you need me’ in the same sentence other than him.

Bahng.

FIC TAGLIST. @lizzetmv @skzhoes @fylithia @sunshineshouyo @stayconnecteed @starlost-andfound @seo--changbin @lynlyndoll @browniesandsunshine @stay278 @surefornext @pororolifeblog @httpsjuno @d7n3

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blueskittlesart · 7 months ago

Note

i kinda really wanna see a big ol vent/rant from you about genshin now lol. I would read an essay

I'm not sure you understand the insanity you just unlocked in me but ok

genshin impact is probably the clearest modern example i can think of of capitalism absolutely eviscerating a creative project. For context, I started playing genshin in 2021, just after the 1.4 update. it was venti's first rerun/the first windblume festival if that means something to you. and I really genuinely thought that it might have had something special. It was a gacha that didn't FEEL like a gacha, which was a huge feat to me.

it began with a very simple story pitch--you, the protagonist, are one of a set of twin siblings traveling through space. you come upon a seemingly unassuming world and your attempts to continue your journey are suddenly stopped by a mysterious, all-powerful figure. you are separated from your sibling and wake up alone on the shores of this planet you were attempting to leave together. throughout that opening cutscene and scattered through the world and your character's dialog there are implications that all is not as it seems, that your character is something unique to this world and that they possess powers and abilities that you've yet to unlock. You are told that you must travel the seven nations of this world in order to find your sibling, which is great--a simple, zelda-like objective which drives the player to explore the secondary narratives of the world. none of this is bad on the surface. in fact i'd argue it's pretty good. there's a ton that can be done with these story bones. even at launch the map and combat system were full of potential as well.

Note: for ease of reading, i'm going to label the different storylines of the game now. A-plot refers to the central objective of the entire game; the find-your-sibling plot and everything that encompasses, including the abyss order/dain, the heavenly principles, the fake sky, etc. B-plot refers to the secondary objective present in each new nation, usually meeting the archon and/or solving a problem for the archon. (A and B-plots will occasionally intersect.) C-plot refers to any story, location, or background information which remains in permanent gameplay but which isn't directly related to the A or B-plots, such as dragonspine, the chasm, enkanomiya, etc. D-plot refers to any story, location, or background information which is confined to limited-time events and does NOT remain in permanent gameplay, regardless of its connection or lack thereof to the A and B-plots, such as the golden apple archipelago, the infamous albedo/dragonspine event, the infamous kaeya/diluc event, etc. Lore as i will refer to it in this post refers to any information which is present in permanent gameplay but which is not directly told to the player within the A or B-plot story quests and objectives, including books, weapon, artifact, and item descriptions, world quest dialog and puzzles, etc.

So now we're in mid-2021, there are two nations' worth of B-plot story quests released in full, and we've run into our first problem, which is that the game isn't finished yet. I don't have any actual information about how the game was/is written, but based on what i've observed over the past few years, my best guess is that the A-plot has been fully written since the beginning, at least in some form. there were very early-game events and information pertaining to the A-plot that would take years to see any actual payoff in the main story quests (kaeya's origin story, the 1.3 scaramouche fake-sky drop, the flowers in lumine's hair, etc.) but those kinds of A-plot story easter eggs very quickly dropped off when the game absolutely EXPLODED during the pandemic.

this sudden burst in popularity was the true beginning of the end for genshin, i think, because suddenly they had a HUGE fanbase that desperately wanted more content faster than they could pump out new A-plot or even B-plot story quests. one of the most pervasive complaints about the game when I began playing in 2021 was that there was nothing to do between story quests. update 1.4 (which was the update I started playing at) was important in that it was the first time since genshin's release over a year before that players recieved any new A-plot, in the form of the archon quest We Will Be Reunited, also known as the quest with the most fucking misleading name of all time. you'll never guess what doesn't fucking happen during this quest. anyways. we were a year into gameplay, two nations out of seven released and a third on the not-so-distant horizon, and it seemed obvious that players were owed some sort of A-plot payoff. and that's very much what WWBR was advertised as, from the quest's name to the banners full of art of the twins staring wistfully at each other. The thing is, what i'm describing as A-plot payoff was actually. not really A-plot payoff at all. WWBR was the reveal that the protagonist's sibling was working with the abyss order, and that the abyss order was connected somehow to Khaenri'ah, which at this point casual players would only have known about from THAT QUEST and MAYBE kaeya's character descriptions if they were diligent enough to get him to friendship level 10 (which, btw there is no indication that you should do to get important context about the story of the game, because kaeya is a 4-star starter character and the only character in the entire game that actually has genuinely important story hidden in his character descriptions.) So what I'm calling A-plot payoff felt at the time a lot less like A-plot payoff than it did like an abyss sibling cameo in an attempt to satiate everyone who was begging for more story. We actually gained almost net 0 information. this is very quickly going to become a pattern.

As I've already alluded to, the motives behind this writing decision are transparently obvious. Genshin is a free gacha game which relies on a consistently active and engaged userbase to make its money. With fans getting restless about the lack of engaging story at the time and a new, very ambitious B-plot quest gearing up for release that would require major support from that fan base in order to remain profitable, the writers were backed into a corner. they HAD to throw the fans some sort of bone in order to keep them engaged with the A-plot, since it was originally pitched as the driving force for the story as a whole, but they were also clearly not at a stage of the writing process where it was prudent to give the player any REAL information about the A-plot. This is how we ended up with a 10-second abyss sibling cameo and an offhanded mention of Khaenri'ah, a nation whose plot-relevance was at that point still basically unknown.

The real problem is, WWBR worked. at least, it worked as intended at the time. It satiated story-focused fans in the interlude between B-plot nations, as hyv was gearing up to release inazuma, which required a lot of time in preparation. WWBR was followed almost immediately by the C-plot golden apple archipelago in 1.6, widely regarded as one of the better events of version 1. GAA was memorable especially because it was the first event that involved an entirely new, limited-time-only map, meaning the event had much more longevity than the standard events players were used to. This is, imo, most likely the update combination that led to the standard formula which hyv uses for its quests and events nowadays. the back-to-back release of WWBR and GAA satisfied both fans who wanted A-plot story AND silenced criticisms about the game lacking endgame playability, which at the time must have seemed like a goldmine to writers desperate for a solution to their content-to-fanbase ratio problem.

From here, genshin started following a standard method of release for their next three nations--inazuma, sumeru, and fontaine. the formula generally went as follows: one major version update (usually version x.0) containing a major map update which included all B-plot relevant locations in the new nation, and the first chapter of the B-plot story quest relevant to that nation. this would then be followed by 2-3 version updates which would each contain the next chapter in the nation's B-plot story quest, sequentially. After the nation's B-plot quest ended, during the downtime in which the next nation's story and map would be finalized, subsequent updates would be largely C-plot, and would contain minor expansions of the map to increase endgame playability via exploration and world quests. This is how we ended up with updates like the chasm, the several extra islands in inazuma, and the quite frankly ridiculously large sumeru map, as well as the offloaded maps like enkanomiya and the sea of bygone eras. with the possible exception of the chasm, none of these areas are A OR B-plot relevant. hyv has realized that artificially inflating the map makes their game technically more engaging during the downtime between nations. However, this comes at a price. While the scenery and set design of the game remains consistently beautiful, the actual, mechanical gameplay that populates that scenery very quickly became mind-numbingly boring if not borderline unplayable. While the 1.0 questlines were not perfect, there was at least an emphasis on the player actually DOING things. 1.0 B-plot quests would have you going to mini-dungeon temples and completing challenges which would acclimate you to the combat system while also serving narrative purpose. There were quests that required you to navigate open-world dungeons. Because your characters were lower-level, combat challenges that arose during these quests were CHALLENGES, rather than two-second buttonmashing segments. By the time we get to sumeru, though, both B-plot AND C-plot quests have become little more than moving your character from location to location and tapping through (usually unvoiced) dialog. there's no GAMEPLAY in the quests anymore, because gameplay isn't what makes money. What DOES make money is giving players 300 hidden chests to find in an open-world map segment, each of which gives them 1/80th of a gacha pull. And so the story suffers and the map gets bigger.

Along with the map expansions, downtime between nations usually also nets us one A-plot quest, usually involving the character dainslief, who was the driver of the initial WWBR quest. This is the second half of hyv's magical formula for keeping fans happy between major releases. the A-plot quests will, as a general rule, give players either very little new information or no new information at all, but will dress up the delivery in such a way that it ALMOST feels as though the protagonist has moved forward somehow. the most recent example of this writing style, the 4.7 quest bedtime story, amounts to about an hour and a half of gameplay and, while it DOES contain a segment in which the protagonist finally actually has a conversation with their sibling, that conversation literally begins with the line "I have so many questions, but for some reason I don't want to ask them right now," ensuring that the sibling will not actually be required to give away any plot-relevant information whatsoever, and the quest ends with the protagonist FORGETTING THAT THE CONVERSATION EVER HAPPENED IN THE FIRST PLACE.

As I think I mentioned before, the cardinal problem of genshin impact's writing is that fans want answers faster than the writers are prepared to give them. I don't doubt that there's a game bible or relevant equivalent somewhere within hyv which contains the explanations we are currently lacking in regards to the A-plot. the game is consistent enough in its storytelling for me to believe that this isn't all just being made up as we go along. But I'm also certain that a lot of the late-game A and B-plot that is planned (especially if the Khaenri'ah is truly planned to be the 8th nation of the game) hinges on the player knowing very little about the A-plot. this would be fine if genshin was a standard single-release video game that players could work through at their own pace, but it isn't. it's unfinished, and each nation in the game releases months to years after the last, leaving the writers to scramble to fill in the gameplay gaps and players struggling to remember plot-relevant information when it's brought up literal years after they last heard it mentioned. Not only does the time between updates leave players frustrated about the lack of A-plot, it makes the A-plot harder to understand when it is brought up, because the writers are required to throw in so much dense C and D-plot just to keep engagement high enough to make the game profitable in its downtime. we joke about the insane convolution of genshin's lore, but that is first and foremost a byproduct of its financial model. the game requires engaement to be profitable, and adding lore for players to look into drives up engagement. The fact that having so much story with so little plot relevance muddies the waters and makes the A and B-plot stories considerably harder to understand doesn't matter as long as money is being made.

I want to take a quick detour here to talk about the release of sumeru specifically, because this is when I really began to clock the fact that genshin was declining. on paper, racial sensitivity issues aside (Not that they're not important, but i'm doing this deep dive from a storytelling and game design point of view, nothing else. that's a whole can of worms i don't have time to get into here) sumeru was a really promising addition to the game. The new B-plot quest which was set to drop in 3.0 was highly anticipated for several reasons. Two fan-favorite characters (kaeya and scaramouche) were expected to play major roles, because of earlier C and B-plot quests, and much of the nation's scenery that was teased in trailers and promotional content appeared to tie into the A-plot. the most exciting draw about sumeru and version 3.0, though, was the major update to the combat system.

Arguably genshin impact's most interesting feature upon release was its combat system. The map was basically a botw clone at that point, and the story quests, while decently engaging, were rough around the edges to say the least. What genshin DID have going for it was a unique real-time combat system that rewarded strategy and quick thinking.

Genshin's combat system is elemental, and on release there were 6 elemental affiliations: anemo (wind), cryo (ice), pyro (fire), hydro (water), geo (rock), and electro (electricity.) in a sort of pokemon-like system, certain elements were weak to other ones, but more importantly, certain combinations of elements could drastically boost combat stats. Players got to construct four-slot teams of characters, each with an elemental affiliation and certain "skills" which would match their element, and you were encouraged to use the interactions of these elements to build teams. very quickly, a huge community formed dedicated to optimizing teams and tiering characters. People would even make a game out of building teams specifically to do high-level damage with "bad" characters or characters who weren't designed to be damage drivers (my 100k jean burst was an incredible moment fr.) this was, of course, also a picture-perfect driver for the gacha aspect of the game, which was how players obtained new characters.

Pre-3.0, combat was... well i won't say it was balanced, but there was no elemental reaction that had any MAJOR advantage over the others. when you actually ran the numbers, i believe vaporize was the best reaction in terms of damage output, with the best team being raiden national with kazuha for EM buffs. but a well-built freeze or melt team could do similar numbers, or even better numbers depending on your artifact rolls. (ayaka permafreeze you will always be my #1.) Despite a steady stream of new characters with each update, characters from the earliest version of the game like xingqiu and xiangling were still topping the charts in terms of usefulness and versatility in teambuilding. However, as early as 1.0, players had been teased that a major update to the combat system was planned. There was a seventh element, dendro (plants) which pre-3.0 only existed as an elemental affiliation for menial enemies. there were no playable dendro characters, and the only elemental reaction that existed relating to it was very low-level and not particularly useful in combat.

Originally, dendro was projected to be added to the combat system somewhere in version 2, but its release was delayed substantially, meaning it came out along with its affiliated nation, sumeru. And as soon as it came out, it basically broke the combat system. I assume that the scaling they ended up going with may have been out of fear that players would be hesitant to integrate a new element into their pre-established team builds, and thus they may have been worried about sales on their dendro character banners, and i assume that the fact that 3 elements are required to get the highest-level reaction was an attempt to make the meta more balanced in the face of that scaling, but, well... it didn't work. At this point, the genshin impact combat meta is basically "if you're not using hyperbloom what the fuck are you doing." there's basically no reaction in the game that comes close to it in terms of both damage and ease of use. you are not going to beat a hyperbloom team with anything other than a better-built hyperbloom team. combat is now very heavily skewed in the direction of dendro, meaning that if you DON'T want to use a dendro team, you're going to be doing significantly lower numbers. And since enemies are added with each update, post-3.0 combat becomes difficult and annoying if you don't have a hyperbloom team on-hand.

The major gripe i have with dendro isn't even the scaling, though. I mentioned offhand earlier that the 1.0 B-plot questline had a section which taught you the basics of the combat system via mini-dungeons. These mini-dungeons, of course, taught you the version of the system that existed pre-3.0, so there's no tutorial for dendro reactions. Rather than integrating the tutorial into the story and world like they did in their early quests, upon playing 3.0 for the first time players were given a popup that explained, very wordily, how dendro reactions worked. there was no opportunity to test these reactions in an environment without consequences--if you wanted to try them you'd have to remember the relevant information, build yourself a team, find an enemy to try them on, and just hope you got it right. This lack of integration is something i began to notice more and more with genshin as it progressed, especially in sumeru. where in mondstadt and liyue open-world puzzles would be explained to you by an npc or via environmental context clues, in sumeru you'd be stopped while exploring every two seconds by a popup explaining some puzzle or another which, of course, you wouldn't read, because you didn't want to do the puzzle right that minute anyway, and then by the time you DID want to do that puzzle you'd have no in-game way of figuring out how to do it. The puzzle popups may seem like a small thing, but it's one of the clearest examples in the game to me of the fact that the player experience is so clearly not being prioritized here. the game doesn't even TRY to be immersive anymore. they have no qualms about pulling you out of the story to read a paragraph about how the puzzle works. they don't care how your character, in-universe, is supposed to have acquired that information. they don't care why your character, in-universe, is doing the puzzle in the first place. because they know the reason YOU are doing the puzzle, which is to unlock a hidden chest that gives you 1/80th of a gacha pull.

That was not "a quick detour" was it lmfao. ok anyways. back to the story. Now i want to talk about D-plot, meaning limited event stories, and lore as i defined it earlier, meaning contextual details not present in quests or playable story. This is where i think genshin's story becomes completely inaccessible.

Already, we've covered the fact that in order to consume the very basic story, players have to be willing to wait years between A and B-plot quest releases, punctuated by irrelevant map expansions and interlude quests. I mentioned before that genshin's incompleteness is one of the major problems of its story. the fact that players have to wait years, remembering plot-relevant information that they have no way of knowing will even BE plot-relevant, for the payoff of these narratives is frustrating at best and actively malicious at worst. But in theory, there should be an obvious way to circumvent this. One could just wait until the game IS completely finished to play the whole thing. Sort of like buying a game in early access but waiting until it's actually finished to play it all the way through. that's theoretically possible. but, as i have been hammering home this whole time, genshin is a free game, and therefore genshin relies entirely on a consistently engaging fanbase in order to remain profitable. if genshin does not have a base of players who are willing to log in every day, or at the very least once every update, the game's financial model collapses on itself. therefore, genshin puts on limited-time events. this is a standard in gacha games, as a way to keep the fans consistently engaging. What is not standard, however, is the way that genshin uses these events as vessels for its story. about 19 out of 20 limited events in genshin impact will be useless menial bullshit with no effect on the story or really even the player aside from maybe making you fucking angry. 1 out of those 20, though, will be innocuously named, with nothing in the banner or event description to indicate that it's special in any way, but it will contain serious A or B-plot relevant information that exists nowhere else in the game. My personal favorite example is the infamous 1.3 scaramouche appearance, in which he showed up, told the protagonist that the sky was fake, and then immediately fucked off again. Scaramouche did not show up again until at least 2.0, and the fake sky wasn't so much as MENTIONED again until 3.2, almost TWO YEARS LATER. but there are others, such as the (almost equally infamous) albedo doppelganger event in which a major character's loyalties are called into question, or the event where major biographical information is revealed about kaeya, the only playable character with major known connections to the A-plot and Khaenri'ah. With all of these events, once the event period ends, the information contained within them vanishes from the game completely. there's no way to replay old events that you've missed, even sans rewards, so if you miss a plot-relevant event the ONLY way to catch up on that story is through word of mouth. again, this is a transparent way to keep genshin's userbase engaged during downtime between B-plot quests; if you don't log in and play every event, how will you know if you've missed something important? You might not be able to fully understand the future story if you miss out on the D-plot now!

The D-plot problem is something that I think could, in theory, be circumvented by dedicated record-keeping. if the wiki had anything resembling an easily accessible event database that marked story-relevant events and contained summaries or gameplay videos, at the very least you wouldn't have to fear being completely lost on the off chance that a random throwaway line in an event from fucking 1.3 becomes plot-relevant. but hyv obviously doesn't want that, because it undermines their financial model, and the sheer number of events and the amount of rerunning of irrelevant events they do makes the task of recording and categorizing them all daunting if not impossible.

Then, of course, there's lore. this is arguably what genshin is infamous for in certain circles of the internet. You know that unraveled video where bdg reads every book in skyrim? if you tried to do that with genshin the video would probably be about 10 hours long. and it's not just books; genshin hides (potentially) plot-relevant information in weapon and artifact descriptions, in random hidden world quests, in character bios... the list goes on. and 9 times out of 10, the information is essentially written in code. Plot-relevant characters will have multiple names, or the relevant information will refer to them as vaguely as possible, presumably to further the "mystery" and encourage theorizing among fans. but the sheer amount of information like this that exists within the game makes it all but impossible to determine what is plot-relevant and what isn't. For a topical example, the most recent A-plot quest bedtime story mentions the name Rhinedottir in connection with events in Khaenri'ah, suddenly making that name A-plot relevant. Rhinedottir is an alternate name for the character Gold, whose existence you would only have known of before this point if you'd unlocked and read the character Albedo's character bios. (Albedo is a limited-run character who hasn't been available since november 2022, btw.) the only other information about Rhinedottir permanently available in the game comes from the description of the weapon Festering Desire, which was only obtainable from a limited event back in 2020, anyway. So basically, if you wanted ANY context for that remark, you'd have to have been playing the game since AT LEAST 2022, AND you'd have to have taken the time to go over your weapon and character descriptions with a fine-toothed comb. keep in mind that as of right now (june 2024) there are 85 playable characters in this game, each with 10 unique unlockable character bio sections, and over 150 weapons, each with their own unique descriptions, not to mention over 50 artifact sets, each with 5 unique artifacts, which all have their own unique descriptions as well. there are also 51 different collections of books which contain written lore as well. the idea that any player could keep up with all this, or that anyone could even sift through it all to pick out the important things that they NEED to keep up with, is insane, especially when the game makes a point of withholding crucial plot information from its players within the A and B-plot quests. this amount of written lore only exists, again, to drive up engagement in the hopes of subsequently driving up profit. Even if the average player isn't reading and absorbing all this information, the fact that it's there coupled with the fact that the writers consistently refuse to reveal anything beyond surface-level A-plot information means that there's basically ENDLESS theory fodder. and THAT means that people will be posting their theories and talking with each other and getting into arguments. it means "genshin impact" trends on twitter. it means engagement, and engagement means money.

basically what it comes back to is that everything is so transparently money over player experience with this game. I think what we're witnessing with genshin is what i would call an end-stage gacha game--a gacha game that's gone on a little too long and gotten a little too popular, and so the veil has started to slip a little more than usual. Gachas work primarily because they operate by toeing the line between what is fun to play and what is a predatory mechanic. As long as the actual gameplay remains engaging and rewarding, players can ignore the unsavory business practices underneath. At this point, genshin has swerved too hard into the money-hungriness and is still hoping that they can use their old tried-and-true engagement farming methods to remain popular regardless. currently, it seems like those methods are still working, unfortunately. Like I said in the post that prompted this, i really can't wait for the hyv writer NDAs to expire 10 or so years down the line, because I can only imagine what an insane shitshow writing for this game must be. I want to see the tell-all articles. I want carnage.

That being said, I played genshin impact religiously from 2020 to 2023. I loved the game. Despite myself, I am still really, REALLY interested in the A-plot. I want to know what's going on with the protagonist and their sibling; where they came from, what happened to them, what the heavenly principles are, what role celestia plays in all of this. I want to know Kaeya's full backstory, what role Khaenri'ah plays in the overarching story, and what happened to it in the past. but I don't really have any faith that I ever will, because I know that as long as keeping their fans in the dark and stringing them along remains profitable, that's what hyv will continue to do.

Do I think genshin impact is unsalvagable? in its current state, yes. If I was given the ability to turn back time and convince a bunch of executives of the profitability of this venture, I would change almost nothing about the story of genshin and completely rework the mechanics of its release. I would make it a series of single-release self-contained games rather than a constantly-updating gacha. Each game would be one B-plot quest, or one nation, eight games in all, preferably released once every year. Removing the gacha mechanic, players would be given access to a certain pool of characters to build teams at the start of each game, and then periodically unlock new characters as the story progressed. for example, if you were playing the inazuma game, you'd start out with only your protag, and after progressing to a certain point in the story you'd get a pool of inazuma 4-stars to teambuild with freely. Then, as the story progressed and you met plot-relevant inazuman 5-stars you'd add them to your pool. I'd change basically nothing about the combat system except for a properly integrated introduction of dendro when it makes its appearance in sumeru. Once you completed the story in that nation, you could move onto the next game in the series if it was out, or if it wasn't, you could continue to explore the open world while waiting for the next release. Would this be as profitable as the gacha model? probably not, but what it WOULD do is allow for much more consistent pacing and writing, with the added bonus of not making your userbase feel like you'd shoot them in the head for their pocket change.

#jesus christ. hi everyone #asks

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vangbelsing · 6 months ago

Text

About Messmer and Rellana

Spoilers will be under the cut, so if you haven't seen anything regarding these characters and you don't want to get spoiled, please scroll/click away‼️‼️

So regarding this post from (basically) yesterday, I want to expand on this topic a little and compile some bits I've seen people use as proof that Rellana and Messmer were in love and why I think it was most likely unrequited love on Rellanas part. I want to actually visit each of these points separately.

I will provide a link to each item description as it relates to each point where available. If there is no link, then it is because the point is self evident, (her sword having his flame) or there was no link I could find (the room where her shield is found) (since edited). If you know any lore or extra bits that I've missed, please do let me know and provide a source.

So on to the points I have personally seen:

She abandoned everything to "chase after Messmer"

She was given a sword imbued with his flames

There is a room in the Shadow Keep that has blue fire (like seen in Caria Manor and other locations associated with the moon) where you find Rellanas shield EDIT: added images to the appropriate section

She came to be known as "Messmers Sword" and was extremely devoted to him, even though she knew "the moon brilliance of the moon could not grant him succor"

Okay, so, starting with the first point:

She abandoned everything to chase after Messmer

I genuinely believe that could range from anything between platonic and romantic. With Messmer specifically, we see many people who showed similar devotion to him by abandoning their homes and swearing their undying fealty to him. Without further context, there's really nothing I can see that can be used in either direction to make this any more concrete, so I'll just move on.

She was given a sword imbued with his flame

I think point 2 is undoubtedly the weakest, as the Fire Knights were given swords blessed with his flames as well. In fact, all of Messmers soldiers had weapons blessed with his flame, or used his incantations. We see this with even the most basic Messmer soldier in game, so this point in specific I find rather baseless.

A room modeled after Raya Lucaria

I assume the reasoning behind using this as proof that they are in love is that it would be assumed Messmer himself modeled this room after Rellanas home out of his affection for her or something similar, and while that could be true given Fromsofts love of environmental storytelling, I do think this is too shaky to use as actual concrete evidence. Keep in mind, it is in a storeroom in the keep, and if you look, on the many levels of each of the rooms, we see numerous books, tablets, and other items used for study or knowledge, and many of them are based in different cultures and factions in the setting of the world, so having an area that would contain information regarding Raya Lucaria and associated magic or glinstone sorcery as a whole doesn't feel far fetched to me. Conversely, Messmer is shown to be very benevolent and caring towards those in his charge, so it would also be reasonable to assume that he would allow for her to have that part of the storehouse be modeled in a way that invokes feelings of home for her. But I don't necessarily believe that has to be romantic. I have no specific points to make on the contents of the shield itself, but I will link her shields description for any who want to read it.

EDIT: it seems to be an armory specifically. There are no books, and there are only shields and lances. Sorry I couldn't get a photo with all of the furniture intact, the Fire Knight destroyed it all... That said, I'm not sure if this being an armory would change any context, really.

She came to be known "as Messmers Sword"

This, again, doesn't feel concrete to me, as far as proving anything happening between them. After all, not only were many of his soldiers incredibly devoted to him, but the Fire Knights in specific were the ones who knew him best, and each of them were the ones who answered directly to Messmer, as well as wielding weapons with his flame and his incantations in tandem. They were closest to him. And then there's Gaius, who was outright stated to be Messmers friend and the leader of his men. Lastly, I think being devoted to someone does not always imply romantic love, nor does the title of being their instrument of battle. Blade of Miquella is Malenias title, and I do not believe those two are romantically involved.

Some additional thoughts

I would honestly say that the most convincing piece of evidence to suggest that there were romantic feelings on Rellanas part comes from her sword, which reads: "here, and here alone, were moon and fire ever together." This, to me, is far better evidence that there were deeper feelings on her part than just devotion. However, it also clearly states how they were never together, which I feel is very much the most important part of all of this.

However, in general, while I do believe that all of the in-game lore suggests she may have had romantic feelings for him, I also think it could be as deep as pure devotion. We see it everywhere in this world, both in base game and the DLC. Malenia, Blaidd, Leda, Ansbach... Radahn and Leonard. (sorry) Devotion is seen in all corners of this setting. Messmer in particular seemed to inspire a great deal from many different places and in many people, so it's not entirely impossible that it would be the same for Rellana, though I do believe she has unrequited love for him.

Another thing to keep in mind is Messmers situation. He is cursed and was waging a cleansing war on untold numbers. He is slowly being eaten away at by a serpent that resides in his body, and that says nothing of the flame in him that he utterly despises. He also clearly has many issues where Marika is involved. All of this, coupled with the information that the Fire Knights were the only ones who truly knew and understood Messmer, it feels to me like romance would not only be something he was not concerned with, but also something he might not allow himself. I feel like he's far more worried about more important things.

In closing

At the end of the day, the nature of these games is that of vague droplets of information, even with the most important story beats. So unless there is something I've missed, I genuinely believe there is nothing in the game suggesting that they were in love with each other or that Messmer in any way returned her feelings, and in fact I think the game suggest the exact opposite: that Rellanas feelings were one sided. However, the only person who could say for certain is Miyazaki, and something tells me he wouldn't care to elaborate on this.

So until supplementary material is released that reveals new information or there is lore within the game that I have not seen or has not yet been found, I'd have to say I think it's relatively certain that they were not romantically involved, and that the feelings were very one sided, if any romantic feelings existed at all.

#messmer the impaler #elden ring messmer #sote spoilers #elden ring sote #elden ring spoilers #elden ring #rellana #rellana twin moon knight #messmer #shadow of the erdtree #lore

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kaeyachi · 24 days ago

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I'm typing out some hella crazy long kaeya lore thing right now (im not even halfway done and i kinda fell asleep on it coz I was tired), but it led me to review older Kaeya lore things, and then i got hit with the "oh, another one for the kaeya thinking/talking about fate thing. wow" in a surprising location (well, not too surprising considering Fate lives rent free in Kaeya's head)

its in the full description of Kaeya's Sailwind Shadow skin.

" Different people live in different ways. A thief will not bear the blade of a knight, and a traditional knight will not sneak out a hidden dagger to hurt someone.

If the characters in the story don't abide by such rules, then the story has betrayed the roles dictated by fate."

That's...interesting. What are you trying to say, Kaeya? Do you actually dare challenge your role in this story?... Isn't he already betraying both of his roles?

But yeah, it's the same old idea about Kaeya's dilemma. He keeps mentioning that he wants to go against fate, but he also feels hopeless because how could he challenge something inevitable? I'm actually more impressed by the fact that he can't stop thinking about it...

...It's as if he is still ACTIVELY thinking about what to do for when fate finally catches up with him...

Well, Mona did say he has a huge decision to make...

I honestly want to do a deepdive on the skin's full description. There are so many keypoints in it that really delighted me when I read them again (not so delightful for Kaeya who was being all melancholic over a kid asking a single question, but very delightful for me- a Kaeyangst and Kaelore enjoyer)

#kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya lore #kaeya theory #well this isnt really a theory. im just pointing out things and connecting some dots #seriously kinda want fate and kaeya to be besties someday #nothing funnier than befriending some entity that you've dreaded for your entire life #ah kaeya. fate's favorite worshipper or something #what else do we call this obsession over fate besides devotion?#well its either that or its on sight for fate #kaeya could be throwing hands the moment he spots fate use a corporeal body #YOU KNOW WHAT? BOTH OPTIONS SOUND HILARIOUS #fate's little meow meow indeed #these tags are getting more and more cursed by the second #oh wait additional tags but yes i am a firm believer that kaeya has not chosen mondstadt yet #or even if he has chosen mond he must have a caveat for khaenri'ah #he wants the beeeest of both worlds

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lloydlings · 6 months ago

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new and updated theory on the source of lloyd’s power!

in dragons rising there definitely has been lore dropped here and there but more than anything I find ammunition to power my long winded theory that lloyd’s powers come from his heart, in theoretical and just elemental sense.

doc wyatt has established there isn’t a set explanation (YET) in show, but he did like one of my tweets regarding my claim that Lloyd’s power resonates within the heart and soul.

starting out, lloyd’s power has never been defined. it is hinted by the writers that lloyd has no idea what it is, though what we do know is that it—-

1) can create life and destroy it (the book of elemental powers)

2) draw energy from the elements

3) shield oneself / very powerful in attack

4) does not belong to the source dragon of energy but belongs to the source dragon OF LIFE

5) has some sort of connection with the FSM

and lastly, by LEGO GROUP’s definition.. it’s ENERGY.

energy can have have different meanings. energy in lightning’s case seems to be the electrical sense, but energy can .. power up things, it makes things work -

energy is also used as a synonym for life force, this is demonstrated when referring to the act of draining source dragons and the whack-rats.

what i am getting at, is I believe that energy in the sense of lloyd’s powers is that he holds the essence of life itself. his power works hand in hand in his survival as well as keeps him alive.

now to connect him to LIFE , a source dragon, was very interesting but made a great deal of sense. Life is in everything, energy can create life.. who created life?

THE FSM used elemental powers to bring Garmadon and Wu into existence, he also holds the ability that past his death, he could steal lloyd from the mortal world to speak to him in the grasslands.

the elements of creation can be drawn from in their energy for lloyd, but the elements of creation were the core four.

LIFE = Lightning, Ice, Fire, Earth

so….

that also makes sense as to when he was dying in mystake’s tea shop that they had to use their elemental powers of creation to revive lloyd or heal him.

now jumping into the theory that will always be my favorite, and the show itself actually jumped into it was elemental powers being felt or drawn from different places depending on the elemental powers, ie nya with veins, zane with his mind, etc etc etc—

lloyd’s power comes from his heart in my opinion.

firstly, life—- energy is what makes the heart beat, you cannot live without that.

mentally, lloyds power has always been his true self, his heart, the way he cares so deeply for people (even if they do not deserve so)

green in spirituality also represents the heart chakra, it is very similar in description.

but as someone so close to his mortality, and who i believe is always aware of such, it makes so much sense.

in s8, when his element is fighting for him as he’s succumbing to his wounds in the fight in krytparium it sparks on his chest,

following this— the elemental master figures that were released in the SOG wave depicted different elements and where they were located differed on the ninja, lloyds was insanely insanely obvious—

overdrawing from his element has caused him great sickness multiple times. we see this with golden power, then we see this with him fainting while using his element against griefbringer in MOTM (something very opposite to his element— death)

the fact that his power kept him alive but also left him for a bit after he almost was on the brink of dying in s8

now with dragons rising and the conduit putting him in a semi coma for several days because of his mortality

he puts his hand on his heart when he approaches the imperium source dragon when saying “this place, i feel weird”

him believing he’d die from conduit power…

it’s justttt…

but that being said there is so much they could discuss about lloyd in show, whether discovering his powers, or seeing the actual scope of what they do

lloyd is very hesitant and he out of anyone never talks about his powers or how they work

but there’s so much there, like what if his elemental power could heal people or bring people back to life (other than himself LOL)

#lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising spoilers #lloyd stop being on the brink of death #lloyd montgomery garmadon #lloyd ninjago #lloyd #ninjago #ninjago dr s2 #my long winded theory #tell me what u think #q

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zaahvi · 3 months ago

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dirthamen and ghilan'nain's intertwined history — a theory

edit: if you read this, please check out the post-veilguard update i gave here!

the relationship between dirthamen and ghilan'nain within the lore has always been unclear but incredibly fascinating to me, and after these past few months of being haunted by it i think i've finally figured it out!

in this *very* long post i'll be breaking down their connections and piecing together theories to make sense of their dynamic and history, investigating the more puzzling elements of dirthamen's lore, and exploring how this all ties into the evanuris' eventual betrayal of mythal. i've kept this theory free of veilguard spoilers so everyone is able to read it!

—————

the connections

the reason why dirthamen and ghilan'nain's dynamic is often overlooked is because most of the ties they have to each other can be easily missed or are sometimes misinterpreted. there is only ONE codex entry that explicitly mentions them together, and while that is already widely discussed, there are many smaller connections between them. so here is everything i've found!

the bear mural:

this mural in dai shows a white antlered figure embracing a green bear. to me, it looks like the bear is being protective of the figure (judging by the fact that they are reaching up to it). the art style looks elven and it's used in a few locations, such as the skyhold barn...

...aaand at calenhad's foothold in the hinterlands:

and well well well, that's dirthamen's statue seated just above it...

so this mural seems to depict dirthamen as the bear and ghilan'nain as the antlered figure, specifically how the dalish may depict them in their legends:

dirthamen's sacred animal was the bear (x), (source is a dalish elf, this info is not found anywhere in elvhen lore)

ghilan'nain had "snowy white hair" and became the first halla (x), (source is a dalish elf, this info is not found anywhere in elvhen lore)

it should be said, the amount of actual elvhen lore we have is very limited, so these could in fact be true and not just misinterpreted by the dalish. though they've been twisted, dalish legends came from somewhere, and especially in ghil's example it makes complete sense to portray her as a woman with antlers and white hair when her sacred animal has antlers and white fur. and while dirthamen is mentioned only with corvids in ancient elvhen lore, they are mentioned as seperate entities than him, so the bear could in fact be the representation of himself. in any case, i'm proceeding with the assumption that this mural is indeed supposed to portray them.

so, as the figure is reaching out to the bear herself, i'm ruling out any possibility of the bear being hostile towards her. it looks like the bear is protecting her, from what? or who? above them is the moon, perhaps it's an indication that mythal is watching, and/or that the bear is protecting or hiding the antlered lady away from her?

———

mosaics in the lost temple of dirthamen:

the design of dirthamen's temple is really fascinating. there's elven imagery scattered all throughout, but mosaics of himself are completely missing. there are, however, mosaics of two other elven gods...

there are five green mosaics of falon'din... and two red ones of ghilan'nain. next to one of ghil's there is also this:

falon'din being there makes sense given that he and dirthamen were "twin souls", which we're not entirely sure what that meant, but either way they had some sort of deep bond. ghilan'nain, however... and this specific mural... less so. this art in particular really reminds me of this description of the bas-reliefs from the horror of hormak:

"The halla were different, wrong. They had too many horns, for one, and a harder, more rounded look than normal. A look that was almost insectile. And the horns themselves were longer and ridged. Organic, somehow."

so, why would dirthamen have put her mosaics in his temple? clearly they had some sort of connection, close enough that he decided to honour her within his own place of worship. you don't just put some other god in your temple for no reason, you know?

on why dirthamen's mosaics are missing:

my best guess is that they were defaced/taken down afterwards, either by his own priests or by invaders. the codex entry for the lost temple mentions madness caused by the secrets they held...

"We will not have it, will not have it! The secrets are madness in our ears, but they are ours The Highest One cannot take them from us. Only Dirthamen, our Keeper, only he And if he does not take the secrets They are ours forever."

...and unless dismembering your high priest was a holy tradition to dirthamen then yeah, it doesn't seem like they were entirely sane. for whatever reason, in their madness, they could have torn down the mosaics.

though invaders seem more likely here, simply because they would have just... done a better job defacing mosaics if they truly wanted to. and to remove only dirthamen's mosaics, and not falon'din's or ghilan'nain's.

"They will come for us in the night Those who could steal the words from our lips And our god no longer rises to our defense."

this part of the codex implies that there were attacks on the temple by those who would steal the priests' secrets, and that dirthamen would defend them against these invaders. when he was locked away, he couldn't defend them anymore, and so these attackers could have easily gotten in. interesting... breaking in and removing his mosaics but not falon'din or ghilan'nain's would indicate a hostility towards dirthamen himself, but not the other gods...

———

the sinner:

by now we've all seen this widely discussed codex entry:

"His crime is high treason. He took on a form reserved for the gods and their chosen, and dared to fly in the shape of the divine. The sinner belongs to Dirthamen; he claims he took wings at the urging of Ghilan'nain, and begs protection from Mythal. She does not show him favor, and will let Elgar'nan judge him." For one moment there is an image of a shifting, shadowy mass with blazing eyes, whose form may be one or many. Then it fades.

so apparently "taking the shape of the divine" was a crime bad enough that it counts as high treason and mythal referred judgment to elgar'nan for it, which is REAL bad. this sinner claims ghilan'nain urged him to do it, but why? one would assume the sinner didn't survive elgar'nan's judgment, and if you really wanted someone dead there would be easier ways to kill them... so to me this reads as an attempt to sow discord, either between dirthamen's worshippers or to paint them as troublesome and dirthamen himself as irresponsible in the eyes of the other evanuris? at least that's my takeaway here.

———

the next few are going to be smaller hints that basically rely on subtler location design and stuff like that. i could just be picking at nothing but it's worth mentioning either way!

ghilan'nain's grove and the crow fens:

there are two inaccesible areas in the exalted plains for which you need to complete war table missions to access: ghilan'nain's grove, and citadelle du corbeau. ghil's grove specifically leads you to two other areas: the dead hand, and the crow fens.

the crow fens are interesting because of dirthamen's connection to crows and/or ravens, as written in his dalish legend and by two of the runes from his quest:

"The revealed symbols show what appears to be Dirthamen, the elven god of secrets, on the back of a large crow."

"The revealed symbols show two ravens. One grips a heart in its talons, the other a mirror."

seems like the ravens are fear (heart) and deceit (mirror) while the crow is... idk, just some Big Bird he has. i guess.

so a location named after one of dirthamen's favourite animals right next to ghilan'nain's grove — and let's also go back to that other unlockable area, citadelle du corbeau:

there he is again! the structure is elven, maybe the citadelle was once a place of worship dedicated to him? it's interesting that it's in such close proximity to ghilan'nain's grove, and what's also interesting is the massive statue of fen'harel watching over the entire area:

finally, the description of the quest Rifts in the Fens, which covers the fade rifts in the general ghilan'nain's grove area, says this...

"Active Fade rifts has been spotted in Montevelan Village, Dirthamen's Grove, and the Crow Fens."

seems like it was mistakenly left in, but it definitely implies that ghilan'nain's grove was originally named dirthamen's grove. alright...

———

elven pantheon codex entry placements:

also a smaller one that may mean nothing, but anyway. each of the elven god codexes are scattered through the exalted plains, with four of them being located in the ghilan'nain's grove/crow fens region. these are:

Dirthamen: Keeper of Secrets & Falon'din: Friend of the Dead, the Guide — both found within the dead hand puzzle area

Andruil: Goddess of the Hunt & Ghilan'nain: Mother of the Halla — both found within the crow fens area, on halla statues standing opposite each other

these two pairings found in the same zone is really interesting, especially that dirthamen's is in an area closer to ghilan'nain's grove and ghil's is in the crow fens. :)

———

mosaic placements in the temple of mythal:

most of the elven god codexes in the temple of mythal are scattered about, with the exception of three who are bunched up in the same room together:

elgar'nan, dirthamen, and ghilan'nain.... interesting bunch to put together considering there are no documented interactions between them so far, save for the sinner codex (and ghil & elg now i guess....) in addition, there's also two golden owl (usually representing falon'din) statues flanking dirthamen and a mosaic of fen'harel to the left of elgar'nan, but those don't grant any additional codex entries.

the reason i find these placements interesting is because of the placements of the falon'din and andruil murals in the temple. they're both on either side of the door to the inner sanctum and both of their codex entries mention mythal fighting them. it just seems very deliberate to me, so maybe this is too.

———

the varterral:

i've seen a few theories about the varterral being one of the creatures that ghilan'nain created - valid, by the way, since it does look like a mix of creatures and something she may create. however...

"...On the fourth day, Dirthamen heard them. He whispered into the mountains and the fallen trees of the forest gathered, shaping an immense and agile spider-like beast. It was the varterral. With lightning speed, vicious strikes, and venomous spit, it drove back the serpent. From then on, it was the guardian of the city and its people." — Codex entry: Varterral

here dirthamen is credited with the creation of the varterral. but it's worth noting that, 1. this is a dalish tale so it may have happened differently, and 2. it's not stated that he created the first varterral or anything, just that he made one. regardless, he made a creature, and an awfully ghil-flavoured one at that.

—————

theories on dirthamen & ghilan'nain's relationship

so what we know now is that they're placed next to each other a lot, there's a mural of them embracing, ghilan'nain was clearly important enough to dirthamen for him to put her mosiacs in his temple, and she may have turned against him later.

firstly, an idea: in ancient elvhenan, a lot of the population were enslaved to the evanuris, whether directly or indirectly through a noble that served them. we don't know if the nobles, or any of the chosen, also had vallaslin like the slaves did. but consider that ghilan'nain was once a normal elf; she became an evanuris later. so the two possibilities here are: 1. she was one of these nobles or chosen, or 2. she was a slave. either way the question remains: which god does someone who makes monsters serve?

the most likely suspects:

andruil: in dalish lore ghil is often mentioned as andruil's favourite, her beloved, a huntress who served her, etc. in the elvhen story of her ascension, it is andruil who approaches her with the offer of godhood. it's possible ghil was making monsters for andruil to hunt (she is specifically mentioned in the story as hunting them,) or perhaps andruil simply intervened when the monsters were getting out of hand first, and their relationship came later?

dirthamen: ghil was a scientist... she made monsters yes, but she conducted experiments and collected research (remember the taken shape?) — she gathered knowledge. that seems just like the kind of thing dirthamen would encourage and value: maybe that's why her mosaic is in his temple, and that's what the bear mural means — he was like a patron to her, she reached to him for assistance, and he granted it?

as for the servant/slave question, i personally think she was not a slave, just based on all she was able to do (she had free rein of all those thaigs, seemingly got subjects delivered to her, had that massive gemstone wall — basically, it's clear her experiments were funded) although i do think it would be super badass if she was a slave beforehand, as well as kinda tragic. like... she broke free of her bindings and became a goddess, but eventually turned into those who once oppressed her... sigh anyway

onto some ideas/possibilities:

ghil served andruil, and made monsters for her to hunt. the connection to dirthamen isn't clear.

ghil served dirthamen freely, and he supported her research. after she ascended, she turned on him for unknown reasons. her relationship with andruil began after ascension.

ghil served dirthamen, and he supported her research, but she did technically "belong" to him. after she ascended, she turned on him, perhaps as revenge? her relationship with andruil began after ascension.

ghil wasn't aligned with any god, and could have just been a noble with her own funds. she could have interacted with and formed relationships with multiple gods, as she wasn't bound to a single one.

i personally think number 2 is the most probable here. going from dirthamen -> andruil rather than andruil -> dirthamen makes more sense, considering that the ghilandruil mural from the missing was clearly drawn after ghil's ascension (since she has her headpiece) and also, from what we've seen of ghil so far, she seems very proud of her creations. why would she want them hunted? again, the bargain she made was to destroy her creations in exchange for godhood. it was a sacrifice.

finally, considering her resources it makes more sense for ghil to have been a servant rather than a slave. what remains now is the question: why would she have turned on dirthamen?

a reason for betrayal

between the missing mosaics in his temple, ghil convincing his followers to commit crimes, and the stabbed fade statue, you can probably tell by now that something's different about dirthamen. remember the fen'harel statue looking over the citadel? there are more potential connections to solas if you look close enough:

fen'harel statues in the lost temple:

dirthamen's mosaics in the elven mountain ruins (note: these are the only evanuris mosaics in the entire area, not counting the forgotten sanctuary):

mosaics in the forgotten sanctuary (on each wall: dirthamen - mythal - fen'harel - falon'din - dirthamen)

symbol of the two ravens in the forgotten sanctuary armoury

so what does this all mean? well u/eravas on reddit had a theory that these are hints that dirthamen could have potentially been helping solas and mythal with the rebellion. remember how morrigan said it was weird the temple of mythal had fen'harel statues? and the mountain ruins were a sanctuary, so why keep the mosaics? (there are also a few other hints eravas mentioned that i missed, but these are the most important!)

and remember how i said that attackers on the lost temple of dirthamen could have torn his mosaics down specifically and left the others? and i came to the conclusion that they must have had a grudge against dirthamen specifically. well, there is some other defaced imagery... in the form of these decapitated statues of mythal:

so, why would dirthamen have helped solas? i don't know, but we don't really have explicit answers as to why mythal helped him either. and then, why did solas trap dirthamen along with the others? well, there is one last thing...

the statue in the fade: the final piece of the puzzle

and now, the part that lives in my head rent free!

if kieran exists in your worldstate, then during the quest The Final Piece you will find him and flemeth in the fade, and above their meeting ground there is a massive statue of dirthamen with a blade in his back, with blood pouring out of the wound and his eyes:

alright so to be clear this takes place in the raw fade, not the "dreaming" fade; we know the fade usually reflects the dreamer, but know less about the "raw fade" when we aren't dreaming. it's complicated, but from the random statues and scattered memories we see in the fade during here lies the abyss, it's safe to assume that some of the aspects of the dreaming fade (such as it being ever-shifting and a reflection of the waking world) are also present in the raw fade. therefore, i'm guessing that this statue's presence here is mirroring something that happened in the waking world... so what is it?

i think there are two possibilites:

someone betrayed dirthamen, and this captures the moment of his betrayal

dirthamen betrayed mythal, and this statue is a "reflection" of this

while 1 is more of a direct mirror and is more likely, we don't have that much info about who could have done that to him. yeah, ghil maybe, but she was only stirring the pot and this seems more... severe. 2 is what i believe due to flemeth's deliberate choice to use that specific area as a meeting spot. also, if one of the other evanuris had betrayed dirthamen, well solas said they fought among each other all the time, so that would seem pretty insignificant. on the other hand... mythal was betrayed by what we assume was all of the other seven evanuris. why portray dirthamen specifically?

the betrayal of mythal

so now we have the idea of dirthamen helping solas and mythal, and we have the fact that solas trapped all seven remaining evanuris for their murder of mythal, which includes dirthamen.

that is the missing piece: dirthamen helped murder mythal, despite helping her and solas, and presumably sharing their goals. why? let me go back to something i said about the sinner codex...

this reads as an attempt to sow discord, either between dirthamen's worshippers or to paint them as troublesome and dirthamen himself as irresponsible in the eyes of the other evanuris

consider that ghilan'nain and dirthamen were close, and she was this young elf who had just gotten into the ranks of the gods, probably trying her hardest to fit in. consider that perhaps she stumbled upon her friend's - and now fellow god's - involvement in a rebellion against the gods. but she was the youngest of them. she could not just go to the other evanuris and say, "dirthamen is plotting against us", because she was so new to their group that they would just simply not believe her word over mythal and dirthamen's. so what else could she do to discredit his word? cause discord among his followers, maybe? to paint him as irresponsible, untrustworthy, and suspicious?

and maybe she succeeded. maybe the evanuris found out about the rebellion, and mythal and dirthamen's roles, or perhaps only mythal's? either way, it all ended up with them asking dirthamen to join them in their plot to murder mythal - if his involvement was revealed, perhaps he was threatened or promised to be spared if he helped. either way, the question is: why did he agree? did he change his mind and side with the evanuris? or did he do it for preservation reasons? to save himself, and all he'd acquired? honestly, i cannot imagine a god who gathers secrets and knowledge agreeing to throw away his life like that.

so there you have it. i think dirthamen betrayed mythal, and solas, with a much deeper cut than any of the other evanuris could have possibly delivered. and for that he was trapped alongside them, paying the price for his treachery.

the full narrative, summarised

to break down all my theorycrafting and brainstorming in a short summary:

dirthamen was ghilan'nain's patron, until she ascended to godhood and discovered his involvement in solas and mythal's rebellion. unable to simply tell the other gods, ghilan'nain began to sow discord in attempt to discredit dirthamen's word. when the evanuris eventually turned against mythal, dirthamen went along with them in order to preserve himself, and ultimately paid the price by being trapped in the fade alongside the others. the end!

—————

final note: companion parallels

i first touched on this briefly here but i have a small theory that part of bellara and davrin's characters will be to sort of act as parallels to the gods whose vallaslin they have. what i found curious about veilguard's early marketing was the focus on companions and how important they will be, and i specifically noted the multiple times the writers said that the companions were all deeply thought through and are significant to the plot. it's clear the companions were thoughtfully crafted in order to provide different perspectives and experiences, which is why i found it incredibly interesting that they decided on two dalish elf companions — in a game about elven gods terrorising the world, you'd think that one dalish elf and one city elf could provide more differing perspectives, but bioware specifically picked two dalish elves instead. it implies that, despite their similar upbringings, bellara and davrin may have completely differing opinions about the current threat, or about solas, or something else we don't know about yet. it was clearly a very deliberate decision, and with how important the vallaslin is to dalish elves, it has to mean something.

bellara is an elven lore nerd who loves exploring ancient ruins and uncovering secrets. dirthamen was an easy guess, and the design - although new and very unique - matched up to patterns on his inquisition vallaslin. as of sept 19, it has been confirmed her vallaslin is indeed dirthamen's.

davrin is a grey warden and a monster hunter. his vallaslin design was harder to figure out, at first i thought it was june's but the lines and layout really remind me more of ghilan'nain's.

the parallels are pretty clear. bellara is more similar to dirthamen, being interested in secrets and knowledge and such. whereas davrin and ghilan'nain are at odds: davrin being a grey warden monster hunter, ghil being a blighted monster maker. one similarity, and one anithesis, which makes them unique to each other. and for all the gods bioware could have picked, to choose dirthamen and ghilan'nain... well, ghil is of course one of our antagonists, but dirthamen has no direct connection to the plot...

........ or maybe he does? we'll have to find out :)

#pre-veilguard posts archive #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age lore #dirthamen #ghilan'nain #mythal #solas #evanuris #*emerges from a cave covered in blood with 10 pages of deranged rambling* hey guys look at my fun little theory #i finally finished it after like. a month.#it's been on my mind for... so long...#but yeah. the only thing that is kind of a plot hole here is why dirthamen would help solas #but i can't really explain why mythal would either #so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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