#the way the lore kind of stretches over both past and present - there will always be stories to tell within this universe

[zabiume]

Hi! I just wanted to say I love your fics and your bleach analysis so much!! I hope this okay for me to ask, but like. Do you know what happened (by happened I mean the narrative significance) of that bleach bonus chapter arc??? Imo it just feels rly weird and out of place to go like… oh btw every soul reaper who died is in hell xoxo -kubo, but maybe I’m missing smth? Anyway I hope you have a great day!!!

thank you! 💖

well, 'no breaths from hell' was a "one-shot" meant to celebrate bleach's 20th anniversary, but it's unclear whether it'll stay a one-shot or if it'll go on to be a full-fledged arc centered around hell – the one realm kubo has hinted about in the past but hasn't really explored in depth yet. based on some of kubo's vague answers on klub outside, it seems like he's still withholding some details (<- i.e some fans think he might be saving it because he's writing again and doesnt want to spoil anything, because what other reason would he have to withhold information, right?). maybe it's because of this and the cliff-hangery nature of the one-shot, but a lot of people are naturally very excited about what this means and i've seen a lot of interpretations and speculation about what little we learned in those 75-ish pages (i don't remember if this was the exact count).

for me, personally (and narratively), bleach has always talked a lot about how power has a consequence. think about characters like ichigo, whose vasto lorde transformation granted him the power to beat ulquiorra but cost him his humanity. or even his mugetsu form, which zangetsu warned would cost him his powers forever (even though we know he gets them back later anyway). you can also look at grimmjow's transformation as an example – he had to eat his own fracciones to evolve. aizen's experiments with the visoreds gave them hollowfication, but they could only maintain it for a few minutes at a time (and cost them their bodily autonomy, since they didn't exactly consent to that). the captains and lieutenants all aspire to attain bankai, but the technique requires years of discipline and practice (and self-actualization).

additionally, bleach's power system actually rests on the balance of power – soul society absorbs reishi back, mayuri kills a bunch of rukongai citizens to ensure stability within all the three worlds, and of course, reincarnation, which is ultimately the recycling of souls, only adds to that.

the hell lore we've received so far seems to be in line with that. most soul reapers will probably die and be reabsorbed by soul society (before ultimately entering the life cycle again), but captains and lieutenants are more powerful. their reabsorption will probably cause instability.

the fish metaphor, which had a lot of people scratching their heads when it first dropped, seems to hint vaguely at this. the bigger fish had to die, if only to ensure the world would be stable enough for all the little ones. "die" here seems to mean "go to hell." it's all pretty straightforward, actually. the soul reapers had no idea they'd been casting their captains into hell, and however good the reason, they all seem horrified by this fact.

i personally really liked this one-shot because it turns the "everyone lived happily after" around on its head and asks: but what about the people who died? which is more interesting. the events of tybw caused a MASSIVE shake-up to the fabrics of existence, stretching them, pulling them thin. there were so many deaths, so many imbalances, that the happy ending we got in 686 seems to be the calm before the storm, while something murky hid within the depths, unsuspecting. it's spooky, it's horrifying, it's full of intrigue, and knowing what we know about the former captains (like, FORMER former captains, the prehistoric ones), it opens up the possibility that the main characters will be meeting some really messed up guys (should we ever see the inside of hell). the arc seems to be asking the main characters, mainly soul society: did you really think you'd get your power and your victory without having to pay something in return?

and THIS, of course, ties into ukitake, whose entire thing with mimihagi was a loan he borrowed from and paid for with his life. it's no surprise that, from the looks of it, ukitake seems to be ruling hell (or at the very least was singled out while all this was going on).

this is how soul society gets dragged into it. meanwhile, if you've noticed the patterns in bleach so far, then you'll know that every arc begins with some personal stakes for ichigo to get involved. ichigo, by the end of bleach, has mostly made peace with his past, embraced the true nature of his powers (and his soul), overcome the despair and grief from his mother's death, and finally started a family of his own. he has a son now, a son who has been involved with hell to some capacity, though it's a little early to say what this will mean for ichigo – that you can't protect your kids from everything no matter how hard you try? that kazui's mixed bloodline will have consequences, just like it did for ichigo? who knows? we'll just have to let time pass and see if kubo will ever drop the whole thing! :D

[p.s i've actually talked about the cycle/balance of souls and what this means for captain-class shinigami and nobles before in this post, if you want to read more of my thoughts on a topic that's pretty similar to this one]

[ezdotjpg]

do you have any directors commentary on the recent two updates? 👉👈 the color palette is absolutely lovely! and and and WOLF!! :DD

OH BOY DO I

In the original draft of this chapter, Wolf stays a, uh, wolf until like the 4th update. Instead of actually managing to get his teeth on the master sword, Loft threw him off immediately. The Deku Tree still said the line about all three of them being heroes and Slate is like. “Including the fucking dog????!” I thought it was very funny but a) it made some scenes later down the line a huge pain and b) I was tired of drawing wolves ALDKDKD

You may have noticed Wolf’s scowling in the bg of almost every panel. That’s kind of just his face, but also right now my guy is nursing the world’s biggest migraine from popping the shadow crystal out of his skull. He can stay wolfmode for a while, but it’s still technically a curse. It’s not consequence free, and there’s an upper limit for how long he can spend in that form. Anyway, cut him some slack if he’s a little prickly for a bit.

There were a lot of comments about Loft being strong enough to toss a wolf over his head lol. My hc is that he’s one of, if not the strongest Link sans any magic items like power bracelets or gauntlets. He’s actually not even as strong now as he was during his quest. Wolf maybe has him beat now, but he can still get tossed lolol

It might seem like Slate’s really taken everything that happened at the end of ch1 in stride, but don’t worry. He’s simmering. Loft is grateful for the opportunity to get distracted by something else. Maybe that’s why he was so willing to approach the wild animal he’s never seen before lol

This maybe goes without saying based on the events of the last two updates, but Slate never had wolf link with him during the events of botw. He doesn’t recognize Wolf.

I’m really glad ppl seem to be liking the colors bc I struggled with them so hard on both updates 🫠literally days of me turning to my roommate and going “I think I’ve never made anything worse” and them going “it looks good stop being dramatic” WKDJDK I have this thing where if I had an idea in my head for what an update should look like, and what I produce doesn’t meet it somehow, I start seeing in fucking. shrimp colors. Posting always gives me a confidence boost back lol.

these pages were cursed in general bc like. this doesn’t usually happen but I think I redrew every panel in this update at least 5 times each. that’s part of why it ended up being late SKDJF

I REALLY like the idea of being in the presence of the Triforce and having access to its power being this eldritch, divinely horrifying experience. The sort of thing that is impossible to explain to anyone and also haunts you forever. Loft spends a lot of time actively trying not to think about the Triforce. Just, like, remember that about him.

Like how tears in reality are shown through holes in the literal comic panels, I tried to show the concept of reality bending in the form of a panel stretching and twisting like a ribbon ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I hope that came across. Triforce lore varies a bit from game to game, but I’ve come up with my own internal logic for bonus links that combines all the ideas I like lolol. We’ll learn more about it in due time!

I also really like this parallel :D I intentionally set up the panels so past and present loft would line up like this. i love getting to draw flashback links it’s so fun to think of ways to convey what they used to be like, and how their quests might have gone for them. Past Loft’s not having a great time by the time he reaches this point lol

I think that’s all I’ve got for now. Thanks for asking :D

[for-ests]

Waiting Game: Ban x Reader

Summary: friends with benefits can only drag on for so long when both parties have gotten over their past lovers and are faced with death. (honestly don’t know what this drabble is but enjoy the nymph lore) 

Warnings: smut, mentions and descriptions of death 

Wc: 5, 049

It was entirely impossible to resist Ban’s advances. 

It took all of your willpower to keep your distance, to pretend he was nothing more than a friend, and to pretend that each smile he directed your way didn’t pull violently at your heartstrings. 

Yet, the two of you danced around the thin and dangerous line of friends with benefits. Ban loved another, and so did you. 

The years of pain and suffering you had endured just trying to forget your past lover had worn you down. Your first beloved was dead, leaving a hole in your heart that felt like it would never be repaired. 

Your story was far less epic, and far more grim. You were nothing but a forest Nymph, even if you were designated a princess. That title meant nothing when the kingdom you had been expected to rule was wiped off the map by the Holy Knights. 

You had nothing to run back to. You and your people scattered desolately across the continent, desperate to cling to any prospering landscapes and vegetation. That was where you were strongest, but even then, it wasn’t much. 

That’s why you had immediately devoted yourself to Meliodas’s cause the moment he saved your life. And years later, when Ban found his way back into the group, you felt yourself wanting to devote your heart to him. 

Strangely though, devoting your body was easier at first. Pretending that you could never feel love for a person again was easier. You would lose yourself against Ban’s lips, and find an exhilarating high you had never known before. 

None of the other sins knew about your late night escapades with Ban. Nobody even suspected that you would be interested in him. How could you, a ‘dainty’ and ‘helpless’ Nymph even handle someone as strong and powerful as Ban? 

Truthfully, you had been searching for someone that refused to treat you as if you were fragile. You relished in the toughness of Ban, the complete and utter control he exerted and how he refused to be gentle with you. You were simply attracted to him because he was the only one who put his needs above others. 

That was the only reason, right? 

It was hard to remain neutral about your relationship with the Fox Sin. He would treat you like you were just a hooker who had found your way into his bed at night, but then treat you like the princess you rightfully were in the morning. 

All your life you had been protected, you had been cherished, and you had been taken care of. And Ban, he only took care of himself. At least at the start of his relationship with you. You found immense pleasure in being treated like a rag-doll, you loved the feeling of his fangs scraping your delicate sin. Love bites and bruises were welcomed, as long as they were able to be concealed. 

Your secretive relationship with Ban had been going on for months, and now it was starting to take its toll on you. You were starting to slip up every day, making your concern and feelings for him known to others. 

It had always been hard to face the reality of your situation. But now that you had found a welcoming group with similar goals, you were starting to deeply care for them. When you stood by their side in battle, the constant fear of death weighed down on your shoulders. You weren’t as strong as them, you weren’t nearly prepared enough. You were weak with how much you cared. 

And if they left, you would have nobody. Now, you were vulnerable. 

Especially Ban. Watching him fight that day had brought tears to your eyes. The Holy Knights had been keen on ending your life, yet the Fox Sin had sacrificed himself to save you. Even if he was immortal, the pain he must have felt from the blade piercing his heart was unfathomable. Yet, he had done it with no hesitation for you. 

Every time you closed your eyes, the scene of his potential death seared through the darkness. You could hardly remember what happened after, but you knew you had screamed at the top of your lungs, sprinting towards him in horror, knees buckling underneath you. 

Your comrades had been baffled at your outburst. And you knew if there weren't greater challenges to face, they might have even asked you about it. 

Elizabeth had. She caught you right before you closed your bedroom door. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” 

Without needing to ask, you knew what she was referring to. You had always kept your cool, you had always been focused in battle no matter whose life was at stake, even your own. Yet your inner turmoil had become too much to conceal. 

The panic that was visible in your eyes had caused Elizabeth to shudder. She recognized the look on your face to resemble her own when it came to Meliodas.

“Yeah, I'm alright.” You managed a smile. 

The princess sighed. “I’m finding that hard to believe.” 

Opening your door further, your shoulders slumped in defeat. “I just had a wakeup call today.” Though your words were short, they came out soft and forthcoming. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Elizabeth tilted her head, fidgeting with her fingers. She was already dressed in her nightgown, all prepared and ready for a peaceful slumber. You knew if you admitted what was racing through your mind, she would also spend all night worrying about it and comforting you. 

Yes, you did. You really wanted to, but fatigue was starting to invade your senses. Your love for Ban could be confessed another night. 

“I do, Elizabeth.” You exhaled in defeat. She had definitely figured you out. “I’ll talk to you about it later… I just need some sleep right now.” 

“I understand-” She reached for your hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

Her kindness astounded you. It astounded you so much that you were left speechless. It reminded you of the kindness your deceased sister used to radiate. The memories overtook you before you could stop them. It had been so long, it had been years since you had felt like this. 

Elizabeth released your hand and gave you a weary smile. She was drained as well. The princess turned slowly, and retreated back to her bedroom. 

“Thank you.” You called after her. The two of you had a lot more in common than you were willing to admit. You were just frightened of the pain you would feel when she was no longer with you. Everyone you had ever cared about had died. One less person to care about would equal one less heartbreak. 

Yet, you were starting to realize your attempt to push others away wasn’t working. Even if you didn't want to care, you still did. There was no escaping that fact. 

“Of course, Y/N.” She whispered, then closed her door. 

The lamp on your bedside table was dim. For a moment, you stood in the middle of your room. You wanted to sleep, you were incredibly drowsy, yet your brain refused to rest like your body so desperately craved. 

You spent a couple minutes reorganizing the few items in your possession. Anything to keep your mind busy, anything to not think about your horrifying past, anything to not think of him. 

Him. Ban’s face flashed through your mind. For the first time, Ban was the only man present. Your cravings for your past lover were starting to diminish. You still missed him more than anything, yet you took comfort in the fact that you might be moving on. 

He would want you to be happy. Even if your happiness was rooted in another man’s presence. 

The clanging of dishes emitted from downstairs, causing you to turn towards the door. The lights from below shone through the wooden panels. Without sparing a second more to think, you reopened your door. The only person awake would be him. 

The other sins had retired to bed, leaving Ban to clean up the mess in the kitchen. Knowing you wouldn't be able to sleep unless you talked to him, you tiptoed down the stairs to join him. Your thoughts were in shambles and you were searching for comfort. Temporary or not, you needed something. And Ban was the only one you were comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. 

“Hey there.” You whispered once you rounded the stairwell and into the restaurant portion of the building. 

Ban glanced over his shoulder and found you waiting patiently. Smirking, he turned to face you fully. “Why are you up? I assume it's not to help me with dishes.” 

Briefly, his eyes lingered on your somewhat exposed body. Your bedtime attire, though loose and comfortable, still managed to accentuate your frame. 

“What if it is?” You teased, lightheartedness filling your tone at the sight of him smiling upon your arrival. He had probably been expecting it, knowing you. 

You had hardly spoken during dinner, all you had mumbled was a thank you before retreating back to your bedroom. Everyone had noticed it was a stark contrast from the heavenly taste his cooking provided, one that you complimented time and time again. 

Ban could tell something was wrong when you still seemed distressed despite a full belly. 

“Then show me, come help.” He turned back around, calling your bluff. 

You obliged without another word. The faucet was streaming with water, and you took charge of drying the dishes after Ban scrubbed them clean. 

Sometimes chores was all it took to silence the calamity of your mind. Even if Ban was part of your distress, you found comfort in his company alone. 

That was what you had sought for, yet now that you were by his side again, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act now that he had seen the desperation in your eyes. 

Did he think you were insane for caring about him? 

The silence between you and the Fox Sin was deafening. You could tell there was a lot on his mind because of the way his eyebrows were narrowed. If it was even possible, the way he scrubbed the excess food off the plates was frustrated in nature. 

Minutes passed, the night stretching on. At this rate you had become too timid to speak, sheepishness gracing your features as you tried to decipher what he was thinking. 

Ban handed you a cooking pot, it was large and bulky, causing your hands to touch his as you took it from his grasp. You could feel his gaze on you finally, the intensity of his eyes seeming to bore holes into your skull, threatening to uncover what you were feeling. 

“What happened to you today?” He asked. 

Sighing, you averted your gaze to the damp towel in your hand. “Nothing Ban, it’s okay.” 

Ban paused until you finished drying off the rest of the dishes. He shut the sink off and wiped his hands clean. 

“You cried.” He said, as if you didn’t know. “You were afraid.” 

It was hard to remember that you had never cried in front of The Sins before. You had been alive for over two hundred years and developed a hardened shell. For decades you hadn’t shed a tear in front of another, yet witnessing Ban risk his life for you caused you to snap. 

“I’m always afraid.” You deflected his attempt once again. 

“You don’t need to be, Y/N.” His voice resembled tenderness, an emotion he rarely displayed. 

Despite the softening of your heart, you glared. “Why?” 

“Because I’ll protect you. I can’t die.” 

Faltering at his bluntness, you turned away. He had to be toying with you, like he always did, like he always had. “You can still leave, Ban. You can still be taken away from me.” 

The anguish in your voice was evident. It was becoming hard to speak, the fear of losing everything you had with him over something as simple as being honest was unbearable. 

Suddenly, Ban grasped your shoulders and forced you to face him. He tilted your chin up, his eyes seeming to burn with a passion that surpassed the normal lust you had become accustomed to. “I wouldn’t leave you.” 

“Am I supposed to believe that?” You tried desperately to fight off his advances. You didn’t know why, you just didn’t want to admit something you would later regret. Ban didn’t care about anyone but himself. That was what it came down to, you didn’t want to fall in love with someone who would never be able to love you back. “All I am to you is sex. That’s how it’s always been and how it will always be. You can spare the theatrics before they suspect it.” 

Now, Ban was starting to unravel the fervent need that had been stirring inside him for months. He wanted you more than anything, he needed you—yet he was fighting against himself. He didn’t deserve you, someone as pure and innocent as yourself had already let him take advantage of your body for far too long. 

Yet Ban couldn’t stop. His selfish nature was overpowering, encouraging him to take your heart as well as make it his own. The Fox Sin wanted you all to himself and wouldn’t be able to handle the repercussions that would follow if your head was turned by another. 

Ban knew he was going to lose you if he didn’t do anything. And the thought of losing you was something he couldn’t bear. There was still so much you had to offer, so much you had to teach him, so much love you were offering with every longing stare and every touch. 

So, he begged. It felt strange to care for someone like this again. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what needed to be said except the obvious truth. “After I took a spear in the chest for you? After you held me in your arms and cried? That’s all you have to say?” 

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Tears were threatening to pour over at this point. 

Why couldn’t you say it? Why couldn’t you come clean? You were not a prideful person, you were always honest and open. Yet still, as the confession perched on the tip of your tongue, you struggled to even breathe. 

After the awkwardness of your previous insult had passed, Ban’s forehead rested against your own, the weight of him sending shivers down to your core. His skin against yours would always be enough, no matter your relationship. Was a wish like that even allowed? Were you allowed to be as greedy as him? 

With a quivering lip, you finally met his gaze. Red hues stared back at you with an unmasked intensity, hands finding their way along your jawline, easily cupping your cheeks in their entirety. He smirked when he realized they were burning. 

This time, you refused to look away. Say it first. You dared, finally coming to realize that he was thinking the exact same thing as you. Be a man and say it first. 

“I love you, Y/N. Is it not obvious?”  

Your eyes widened. The way they had when you watched him stumble to the ground, a spear protruding through his chest, the consequence of caring for someone. Everyone you had ever loved met the same fate. 

Though you suspected he might, hearing him finally admit it was in its own league of shocking. A tear spilled over your eyelid, and as you struggled to think of something to say, you felt it roll down your cheek. Ban moved his thumb and wiped it away. “Say you love me too. I know you do.” His tone rose with conviction, his grip tightening with each second of silence that passed you by. 

“I-I do.” You whimpered, blinking profusely. “I love you too.” 

Immediately, the Fox Sin relaxed against you. Before you could make another move your entire body was embraced, engulfed by his own. 

Neither of you spoke, both of you wondering if the other was completely over their past lover.  You were, and Ban was too. Neither of you would have confessed a lie and proclaimed it the truth. 

It had already taken so long to get to this point that there was no use to deny it. 

He held onto you until your tears evaporated. Breathing in his scent was enough to pry you from your never-ending thoughts, a scent that was similar to evergreen and hickory. Home. It was your home. 

Eventually, like he always did, Ban pulled away and lifted your chin up with his finger. “You’re mine now.” 

“I always was.” You revealed, trying to hide the desperation that threatened to pour over. Resistance had always coursed through your veins, with everyone and everything, until you had met Ban. It had taken all of your willpower to conceal your feelings until this moment. Every moment you had spent by yourself was spent wondering if you truly loved him. No matter how much you hated it, every time you came to accept that you were. 

And now, all you could think about was consummating this moment with him. You wanted to engrave the yearning you had always felt into his mind, so deeply, so forcefully, that he wouldn’t be able to think of anyone else. 

Ban’s throaty chuckle was heavenly. “Don’t say things like that. You are the most interesting, undecipherable woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Why are you just telling me this now?” You stared up at him with heavy lidded eyes, skin tingling by his proximity alone. 

How could Ban convey the reasonings behind his actions? No one had ever understood his thought process. He hardly did, he would never be able to figure out why he hadn’t told you sooner. The easiest summarization he could think of was that he hadn’t realized his own feelings until it was almost too late. Once he glimpsed the terror in your eyes, when he felt your rejuvenating touch while he was on the verge of death-- was the moment it all made sense. He was fighting for you, instead of him alone. Ban had risked his life for you. 

When the spear plunged deep into his chest, knowing you were safe, tranquility had washed over him. “I had to give my all to make you mine.” The Fox Sin said with the utmost honesty. 

Indirectly referring to your own actions, Ban’s reasonings made complete sense. But now, that didn’t matter. How you came to finally become his was no longer a question now that your wish had come true. 

You loved him. Ban was the reason you were able to love again. 

“Give me the rest.” Your once limp hand balled his shirt into a fist, tugging him down and over you. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, all you could do was show him. You would give him your everything from this moment forward. 

“As you wish.” He smirked, trying to muster up the persona he had presented to you for months, yet his heart had softened, and his movements became tender. Ban wanted to fuck you until you could hardly stand, but this time he would be there to take care of you afterwards. He would wake up in the morning with you in his arms. 

When your lips finally pressed against his, all your previous worries, your fears, and your baggage melted with his touch. Nothing else seemed to matter. 

“I'm going to have you right here, right now. No buts.” He craned his neck down, attacking the sensitive, delicate skin of your neck within the next breath. 

Your head tossed back with a gasp, allowing him direct access to every inch. One arm looped around your waist, while the other took one sweep of the clutter across the wooden bar. Before you could process what was happening, he had swept you off your feet and onto the countertop. “I don’t care if they hear. I don’t care if we get caught.” 

With one swift movement, he gripped the hem of your pajama shirt and tore it in two. 

"Ban! please..." You whimpered as the cold air swirled across your normally covered parts, which were quickly devoured by the burning sensation of his mouth. Immediately you succumbed to the lust and couldn’t muster up a protest about the article of clothing he had just destroyed. 

Quickly, he tugged off your shorts, almost ripping off your panties as well. You gasped, sliding your hands all over his torso, wanting to feel every inch of him. It had been so long, way too long.

You slipped off his shirt before his hands grasped your hips and pulled your bum to the edge of the bar, your lower portion only remaining in place against his body. 

Anticipation was dripping between your thighs as Ban leaned fully over you, flattening your back against the glossed over countertop, kissing you deeper, his tongue swirling forcibly inside your mouth. He fought for dominance, trailing his hands slowly up and down your sides, grasping your skin with need every time a short gasp left your lips.

Begging for more, your legs snaked around his waist, bringing his manhood against your already exposed cunt. He groaned in response, his lips curling against your breasts as he peppered kisses around your hardening buds. 

Ban was never this attentive. He hardly paid attention to foreplay, and now that he finally decided to make it all about your pleasure, he was becoming addicted, knowing if you didn’t stop him he would be able to torture you all night. 

“Now, Ban.” You pleaded, bringing your hand to smooth through his hair, intertwining your fingers through his locks and forcing him to move his face towards your throbbing cunt. 

The Fox Sin removed his lips from your skin to catch his breath, a little surprised himself at how rough and desperate the two of you were acting. His eyes grazed your neck and chest, which were already blossoming red with love bites. 

Ban’s warm skin was burning against yours, hands grasping, jaw clenching, as he paused to take in the moment of you sprawled against the bar’s surface. Your hair fanned out over your shoulders, eyes glimmering with an emotion he would have never expected to be directed his way. "Ban..." You purred, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him satisfy you. To tease the Fox Sin further, one of your hands reached up and began to thumb over your nipple, which was still wet with his saliva. You wanted him inside of you so badly, your thighs twitching with urgency. “Please take me.” 

"God...You're so sexy." He obeyed your command for the first time, swirling his tongue around your entrance until it was drenched with him. You moaned loudly at the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you, lips sucking and puckering over your cilt, preparing you for his staggering length, a length that would have you begging on your knees within a moment's notice.  

You wanted to be the one to dominate, but the way he had you positioned left no room to protest. With hazy vision and flustered cheeks, all you could think about was him. Heaving out breaths of pleasure from his stimulating actions, you watched Ban slip his belt off, letting his pants fall to the ground and pool around his ankles. Wanting to keep you writhing for more, Ban spread your legs apart and stuck two fingers in, pumping them wildly, while staring deeply into your eyes.

He stroked his length with the other hand, undeniably turned on by the sight of you in such a mess, all for him. Ban could never get tired of the way you squirmed underneath him, begging for more.

"Don’t be too loud." The Fox Sin whispered. 

“I c-can’t promise that...The others might hear-” You tried to protest, until you felt his hands curling around your bum. 

“Shut up-” He demanded, pulling his fingers out and sticking them inside your mouth. Your back arched against the counter, wishing you could hold onto something for support. “You can’t ignore me all day and expect me not to punish you.” 

You nodded in reply as Ban took initiative and curled his hands around your bum until you were utterly submissive in his grip. 

You felt more delicate tonight, your senses heightened from the intensity of the previous battle. Your emotions were also swirling, Ban had been in danger before, and the thought of losing him had somehow shattered your heart to an extent you hadn’t expected to be possible. 

His large, calloused hands took hold of your hips next, steadying your entrance to align with his cock. 

“Be the good girl for me that you always are.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut in obedience, Ban hoisted your legs up farther and around his waist. With a snap of his hips, he was buried deep inside your pussy—only groans of ecstasy leaving his lips at the way your walls held onto him so tightly. 

You arched your back again in response, arms reaching out for something to grab onto, his cock sheathed deeply inside you, past the places his fingers couldn't reach. Just as you began to gasp from the pain of his size, Ban clamped his hand over your mouth and flattened your body against the counter. 

"Mph!" Your cries of pleasure only heard by the man who was causing them. He thrusted in and out quickly, light moans escaping his lips each time he pounded into you.

Your screams were muffled into his hands. "F-fuck... Ban...!" You latched onto him as his thrusts reached deeper, your body shaking from the power. All you could hear was the sound of his skin slapping against yours, remaining quiet, taking all of his strength as each thrust promised him unmatched ecstasy. 

Ban looped one of his arms around your torso and pulled you up towards him. Your lips met him in a kiss, one that was sloppy and rough, but one that sent a wave of burning passion down your spine. 

“I love you…” You whimpered with each gasp. “I love you Ban, only you can make me feel…” 

“I know.” The Fox Sin grunted, sliding you off the bar and into his arms alone. 

You gasped, your eyes squeezing shut from the intense amount of pressure. "Oh my god.." you lamented, grasping his shoulders for support. You sunk down on him until it was painful, until you were full with his twitching length.  

You were dripping, making it easy for Ban to thrust as softly as he could. He gripped your ass, cursing loudly as you bounced on top of his cock. You moaned his name over and over again, a stream of curses following as your body began to tremble on the verge of your inevitable orgasm. 

“That’s it.” Ban encouraged, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Come all over me like you always want to.” 

His pace gradually gained speed, causing you to lose yourself completely. For support, your arms reached up to curl around his neck, one hand finding basis in his hair and the other digging into his shoulder blade. 

"Ban!" You whimpered loudly, on the verge of screaming out in pleasure, the motion and the length of his cock sheathed inside you becoming too much to handle in the helpless position. 

“I’m cumming…” You threw your head back, choking out the confession as your thighs twitched in response. 

"That’s it… you’re so fucking tight." Ban grunted through clenched teeth, sweat beginning to gather on his forehead from his erratic, yet rhythmic movements. Though you had become limp from your orgasm, he continued his pace, his thrusts became harder and faster, both of your moans mixing in with the others as Ban started to reach his high. "Say my name.." The baritone in his voice sent shivers down your spine.

"Ban!" You whined at the feeling of him so deep inside you, each plunge causing your entire body to bounce violently against him. Barely having time to recover from your last orgasm, you felt yourself climbing higher and higher, your walls tightening. "Ban...oh my god!!" You finally yelled, unable to control yourself from the quick pace, causing you to orgasm once again all over his cock.

“Yeah…Fuck yeah.” The fox sin whispered. “I’m gonna fill you up.” 

“Please…” You begged, somewhat terrified of the repercussions of letting him finally consummate your relationship. Ban had never released inside of you, but at this point, you were physically hurting for his seed. 

“I love you.” Ban moaned, thrusting into you one last time before following through with his promise. You felt his seed shoot through you, causing you to shudder. Your eyes met Ban’s, red eyes rolling back, relief engulfing his expression.

Breathing heavily, Ban set you back against the counter gently. Your legs shook as he slowly pulled his length out, warm liquid immediately dripping from your entrance. A few minutes passed in silence, the two of you reminiscing of the sinful acts that had just taken place.  

Neither of you had to outwardly admit that you had just participated in the best sex of your lives. 

“Sleep with me tonight.” You said, tiredness washing over you within seconds. Sex with Ban had always been quick and secretive. Now, you wanted to wake up next to him and not regret a single thing. You wanted his arms wrapped around you all night, the safest position you could ever hope for. 

Ban bent down and picked up your clothes from the ground. Handing them to you with a smile, he shook his head, managing to laugh. “I was going to whether you asked for it or not.” 

“Oh?” You tilted your head, snatching the garments away from him. The Fox Sin had genuinely smiled. You could only remember him doing so a handful of times, most of them masking an alternative motive. But this one was unmasked, truthful, and loving. 

Without another word between the two of you, Ban whisked you away in his arms and carried you into his bedroom. And from that night onwards, that's where you found yourself every night.

[mirrorgrets]

Teyvat, the twins, and the Archons: a theory

Hello today I will be explaining my genshin impact theory which is most likely right because I say so and I have an inflated ego

Note: I will be referring to the MC as traveler and the Leader of the Abyss Order as such or as the missing twin for neutrality’s sake. And also because I chose Lumine and I can’t bear to say Lumine is “evil”

Note after writing all of that: Actually, I’m wrong. Reading it made me realize how batshit off the rails it all sounds. But here it is anyways because it’s a funny theory.

Contains multiple spoilers for the entirety of the game (1.3 edition)

Part 1. Gnosticism, Archons, and Humanity

I think by now, most of us have heard of the Gnosticism theory. If you haven't heard of it, Gnosticism is the belief that humanity could be more than what we are at present because of the world we're in.

Gnosticism has many versions but the basic concept of it is that humans are stuck in a fake world where our full potential is locked away because of our belief in false gods. The true God is the creator of the true world and between us and him, are beings called Aeons. One Aeon who is called Sophia (meaning Wisdom) created a being who thought of himself as the One True God and created the physical world in his flawed image. Oh, and he gave seven beings rule over the world he created, who are called the Archons.

Under Gnosticism, humans are thought to be part physical, but also have a spiritual component in us that grants us divinity. But because the false god and archons actively work to make sure we never realize that there is divinity within us, we never reach our full potential.

Connecting this with genshin impact, the humans in Teyvat have access to visions that give them power, as well as a chance to attain godhood. However, they believe that it is a gift from Celestia instead of a thing any of them can attain themselves. In fact, they don't even know that if one "receives" a vision, they can become gods because it's a secret that only Archons are privy to. Venti says this himself at the end of the prologue section of the main storyline when we ask him about visions.

It seems like Celestia doesn’t want humans to ascend to godhood. If we pair this  with what we know from the Main Storyline trailer that Dainsleif narrates, it becomes clearer. He says that Celestia goads humans with their seven treasures, rewards for the worthy, the doorway to divinity. However, it seems like there is a warning for those who dare to try and ascend, as if they say that the throne in the sky is not for us even if we have the means to.

Doesn’t that seem to contradict the purpose of the vision? Yes, it is a means to help humans live in Teyvat, but why give out visions when the Archons know fully well that it could help them gain access to Celestia? Doesn't it then seem like visions are not gifts from the Archons but instead innate power that all humans possess?

Part 2. What are the twins + What is Dainsleif + What are they doing in Teyvat + the Genesis Pearl = A Loop

Most signs point to the idea that the twins are actually older than they look. It seems like Lumine and Aether landed in Teyvat at least 500 years ago during the cataclysmic event that wiped out Khaenri’ah.

Going back to the idea of Gnosticism, the true God sends out Messengers of Light to the false world to guide the humans to their full potential. And we see traveler helping their companions ascend further, reaching their fullest potentials when they “max out.”

Furthermore, it doesn’t seem like they’re human. During the 1.2 Dragonspine event, Albedo does tests on us, and though he doesn’t tell us his complete findings, he alludes that we are like him, created from a substance that is yet to be defined. This goes off from the theory that he’s a homunculus, created from chalk, purified soil, the building block of the world. Aside from that, after our fight with Childe, one of the dialogue options after he mentions the fact that traveler can use both anemo and geo, is that they’re slowly gaining back their true power.

And of course, when the twins first enter the world, they have actual wings which were stripped by the Unknown God. Doesn’t seem very human to me.

So, if the travelers are Messengers of Light, then why is that not their main goal? Based on the We Will Be Reunited trailer, when the Abyss Mage mentions the traveler to the missing twin, their face looks shocked, like they just remembered that they have a twin. There’s desperation in their steps when they rush to the cliff to see their twin again, like it’s been so long since they’ve seen their sibling who they literally forgot. I think that aside from stripping them of their power, the Unknown God also took away some of their memories.

So the missing twin might remember the actual purpose as to why they’re in Teyvat, but didn’t remember their sibling until recently, and traveler remembers their sibling but doesn’t remember the reason why they were in Teyvat in the first place (or they do but that isn’t their main concern since they’re putting their sibling first).

So how does Dainsleif relates to this particular segment? Well, in another version of Gnosticism, Aeons come in pairs. Sophia’s partner was Jesus. Now, in the Main Storyline trailer, Dainsleif alludes to a woman when at the very end of the video where he says “My memory has all but faded completely, but I will always remember, how she too loved these flowers.” The flowers are the flowers Lumine especially likes, the ones she adorns in her hair. A flimsy connection it may be, but a connection nonetheless.

Now, I’ve seen theories about Dainsleif being an older version of Aether, but that theory doesn’t hold water if you choose Lumine as your traveler or if you consider the fact that Dainsleif and Aether don’t share the same eye color. Yet, it’s not completely off. There are thirty Aeons in total, although this number can differ in other versions of Gnosticism.

Now, in Dainsleif’s quest, we immediately question this stranger as he is somehow omniscient, if we haven’t already questioned him with all his narration in the Collected Miscellany videos where he hints that he knows more than we do. I will say it now: I think that Dainsleif takes upon the role of Jesus.

I could be wrong. But I think I’m right. For now.

In another version of Gnosticism, Jesus goes to the false world and saves Sophia, as she forgets who she is, she forgets her divinity and is stuck there. If we follow the theory that Dainsleif is actually the second heir from the Gnostic Chorus teaser, and that he is searching for the Genesis Pearl. The Genesis Pearl symbolizes the beginning and purity that is incorruptible. This could be the essence of Sophia, the lost Aeon who incidentally created the false god.

Back to the Main Storyline trailer, Dainsleif says that the war has already begun, and that is just a continuation of past battles. We could take this in a sense that the conflict has reached its boiling point and that it was only because all these problems were left alone for too long. However, we could also consider the possibility that Dainsleif has lived through whatever the twins are going through right now because he is the first Messenger of Light to step foot in Teyvat.

We can also look into Dainsleif’s name, which is a Nordic name, actually written as Dáinsleif. This means Dain’s Legacy which is the sword of King Högni, which aided him in a never ending battle that went on until Ragnarok.

It seems like the twins are repeating a cycle that has already happened to Dainsleif and whoever the unknown woman who also likes the flowers the missing twin likes. All four of them are Aeons or Messengers of Light.

So who is that woman? I have no idea. It could the unknown god but that feels like a stretch. The unknown god might actually be the demiurge, the false god that created Teyvat and the seven Archons, and not Sophia herself. It could also be Paimon who might have some kind of relation to the unknown god, whether it be that she is the unknown god, or she is a being from Celestia. Either way, both feel like shaky theories.

But of course, Mihoyo is only taking inspiration from Gnosticism and several other sources which could lead them to take creative liberties when applying it to the game.

Part 3. The Abyss Order and Khaenri'ah: war crimes against humanity

Going back to my point about the twins’ original goal to why they went to Teyvat in the first place, let’s question why the missing twin joined forces with the Abyss Order and began to lead them to burn the throne of Celestia.

While we don't hear the missing twin mention Celestia in the We Will Be Reunited trailer, the only other time a throne is mentioned is in the Main Storyline trailer when Dainsleif mentions that Celestia does not want humans to ascend to take up a throne in the sky.

Back to the safety of the game's actual lore, we understand that Kaenri'ah is a godless nation that might have underwent a calamity that might have killed off most of its people since they were closer to understanding the truth, and were technologically advanced, compared to the other nations of Teyvat. An alchemist named Gold ultimately led to this cataclysm due to their greed for seeking erudition.

It is safe to assume that Celestia wiped out Khaenri'ah and all the technology they created. We could also assume that the people were all killed, yes, but it would be better to assume they were cursed instead. Into what though?

The hilichurls.

In the archive section of the game, under the books, there's quite a lot written about the hilichurls, thanks to Jacob Musk. The author describes the hilichurls to be drawn to old relics of the past, with even attempts to recreate it. Their way of lifestyle is even described, and it looks like they worship the element itself and not the Archons who represent it.

Doesn't it seem like the hilichurls have a connection with the ancient civilization of the past? Not to mention their strange connection to the elements in which shaman hilichurls (samachurls) can harness the elements without the use of a vision? If I am correct with my theory, then hilichurls were once citizens of the bygone Khaenri'ah who discovered they could harness the elements without an Archon's blessing that came in the form of a vision.

It doesn't feel too surprising considering that for monsters, hilichurls are quite smart. They even display human-like characteristics. In the game, we see them dancing, sleeping, just minding their own business in general. They have their own architecture and their own language. In the Hilichurl Cultural Customs book, we even discover that hilichurls are not as barbaric as they are made out to be as they have leaders who decide their policies and course of action. It's as if they have their own culture.

Ultimately, the hilichurls are part of the Abyss Order. The organization's main goal is to get undermine Celestia's rule, and at this point of this mess I call a theory, doesn't that make them stand in a position where nothing is painted as black and white as it seems. Yes, they do heinous things like steal, possibly murder, and set off a dragon on Mondstadt, but it looks like they're operating through a "the end justifies the means" kind of morality.

And the missing twin shares this sentiment. As they had seen what Celestia had done to Khaenriah 500 years ago before the beginning of the prologue, their desperation grows. Their war with destiny will not stop until Celestia falls because it is their ultimate mission. Traveler has taken up the safer side of this war, wherein they help the humans but the missing twin has taken up the side of fallen humans. This is why they're not evil per se; just going through questionable steps to achieve a righteous goal.

Part 4. Teyvat and its Archons

Based on all that, it seems like I’m painting the Archons to be the bad guys. I am. They wiped out an entire civilization on the basis that they might learn the truth of the world, and their uncanny closeness to Celestia.

But we like Venti and Zhongli, right? Of course we do! However, they were still complicit in the downfall of Khaenri'ah and the limitation of humanity in Teyvat.

To start, Venti had his gnosis was forcibly taken from him. He doesn't seem to mourn over that (although he could be hiding it) and it looks like he can still present himself in a godly manner as we see in Venti's quest when he revealed himself as Barbatos to Stanley. When we spend time with him under the tree of Vennessa, while he divulges the secrets of Celestia to us, he still seems to comply with them. This could be chalked up to the fact that ultimately, he is Mondstadt's Archon and also the weakest of the seven. We could also consider the fact that at the time of Khaneri’ah’s downfall, he was in Dragonspine with Dvalin, dealing with Durin.

With Zhongli, it becomes a bit more interesting. He gave away his gnosis under the agreement of a contract we do not know the details of. But why he did? Why not because of his regret as the geo Archon and of love? Zhongli once ruled over Guili Plains with another god named Guizhong, the god of dust. Guizhong loved their people but perished during the Archon War. He then moved their people to Liyue Harbor and in her place, began to love them. Although he is stilted with the way he deals with his people, we see that he cares. Over the years, he has grown soft and shed the persona of Morax, a god who dealt with war. He says this himself and it feels like his ability to care extends beyond that of Liyue. It's possible he gave up his gnosis because he understands what the Tsaritsa is doing and what she's fighting for.

The Tsaritsa is the cryo Archon and the god of love. However, according to Tartaglia, she had to harden herself to go through with her plan. But what is her plan but an act of love for humanity? Wiping out Khaenri'ah could've opened her eyes to the inherent cruelty of Celestia. The timeline makes sense because Venti said that 500 yers ago, he knew her well but now, not so much. It’s at that point she loses whatever loyalty she had for Celestia. She had to steel herself and begin her plans to overthrow Celestia, which involves taking the gnoses of the six other Archons to fight the false god and alleviate humans from the hell they are in. That is her way of showing her love to humanity.

Teyvat is only a false world. We have seen many instances of this being hinted at like when Katheryne of the Adventurer’s Guild says “rebooting” or “error” as if she is only a program, or when Scaramouche says that the sky and the stars are all fake. Even in the game, if you take a closer look at the stars, it feels fake, as if it is a dome that traps the humans in Teyvat. Even more unsettling, when going deeper within the Spiral Abyss, the more stars you see which could mean Teyvat is actually upside down and that go deeper within the Spiral Abyss, we are ascending closer to the true world.

What greater act of love could the Tsaritsa commit other than giving humanity the truth?

Part 5. In conclusion: none of this makes sense

To summarize my main points:

Genshin Impact takes a lot from the mythos of Gnosticism

Visions are not gifts from the Archons but an inherent power from humans that come from their own "divinity"

The twins and Dainsleif are related in some manner

The twins are repeating a cycle that Dainsleif has already been through

The twins are suffering some kind of memory loss

The twins are in Teyvat to help humans realize their power

Celestia is not heaven but more like hell

Teyvat is a false world

The Tsarita is actually good

The Abyss Order is a morally grey organization

Archons are bad

This could all be wrong as this is only a theory. But the connections I pointed out make a bit of sense. There’s still more lore to uncover as we’ve only unlocked two regions and the Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies only have one volume out so far (this book is important because an Abyss Mage says that there is a lie within it) so this could all be debunked when new regions are unlocked.

Still, it’s a pretty fun theory to believe in at the moment. Thank you for reading this mess I call a theory!

[infinite-xerath]

Runeterra Retcons 6: Shyvana

I’ll be honest: before doing the research to write this script, even I had no idea how complicated the history of Shyvana’s character was. Counting her current lore state, Shyvana has had no less than five different bios over the course of her existence, putting her in the same league as Warwick in terms of retcons. While I personally think that her current lore state is relatively fine as-is, there are definitely some aspects of her story that could use a little polishing up.

As always, though, we need to first take a look at Shyvana’s history in League and see what the core of her character concept is. With that established, we can try and build a more solid foundation for Runeterra’s resident half-dragon. So, without further ado, let’s see how she was originally envisioned in her very first bio.

Alright, so, Shyvana is a straight up human-dragon hybrid, conceived through… Well, the traditional means. I do think it’s interesting to note that this is actually the first mention of Celestial Dragons we get in the lore. Apparently, the concept for Aurelion Sol goes back all the way to the early days, though I doubt Celestial Dragons were anything like what we know them as today. Hard to say, given that this was the only mention of that entire subspecies in the old lore.

But, enough beating around the bush. As a whole, I think this bio is fine, all things considered. It leaves a lot of unanswered questions, sure, but it’s a decent basis to build her character off of. Most importantly, this bio establishes Shyvana’s connection to Jarvan IV: something that has remained consistent through every iteration of her character. While Warwick’s ties to Soraka were constantly fluctuating and eventually severed in his recent bio, Shyvana’s relationship to the Demacian prince is something all her future incarnations would carry over. Speaking of, let’s check out her second bio and see how her first retcon was handled.

So, Shyvana’s no longer Celestial in nature, which is probably for the best given that her element was always aligned more with fire than space. What’s more, it’s now established that half-dragons like her are hated by both humans and dragon-kind. Also, apparently most, if not all dragons can shape-shift now. Frankly, there are still a few mysteries left by this bio, such as who killed Shyvana’s father and what even happened to her mother. Still, it’s not awful, though Riot apparently decided that they wanted to give her a more active role rather than just being saved by Prince Jarvan. Thus, do we receive her third bio.

Alright, so once again, no real mention of Shyvana’s mother, and her father’s identity is still kinda vague. By this point, another recurring theme of Shyvana’s story should be evident: tragedy. Riot seems quite insistent on giving her the whole dead parent trope for her backstory, yet that’s never REALLY brought up in her character besides a single voice line: “By the blood of my father, I will end them!” Once again, we know nothing beyond the fact that her father was a dragon and her mother was inhuman. It might also be worth noting that no mention of shape-shifting is present in this version of the story, so… Take that how you will.

Still, I like this story because it helps to better establish a bond between Shyvana and J4, having them fight together to bring down a mutual enemy. This, in turn, turns the initial concept of Jarvan merely saving her out of pity to a relationship born of mutual respect. This was Shyvana’s backstory when I started playing League, and so this is the version of the character that I grew most familiar with. Still, Riot would retcon her again after the 2015 reboot, leaving us with her fourth bio. Buckle in folks, because this one is the longest by a landslide and there’s a LOT to go over here.

Phew! OK, that was a LOT to take in. Frankly, you could make an entire analysis about this version of the lore alone, but let’s just go over some of the major talking points, shall we? For the first time, Shyvana is no longer the offspring of a human and a dragon, but rather the result of a human using magic on a dragon egg. The reason for this direction is most likely because dragons in Runeterra can no longer shapeshift, so they needed to find a new way to justify her existence.

Once again, we touch upon the Vastaya Problem, where we have an entire race of half-human creatures that Shyvana could have easily been slotted into. Would the existence of dragon vastaya really be that much of a stretch, Riot? Well, I already harped on about that quite a bit with Warwick, so let’s just move on, shall we?

The fourth version of Shyvana’s bio is the first time in which her mother actually takes a prominent role: that of an antagonist. Yvva is actually pretty compelling as a villain, antagonizing Shyvana all her life while her father tries to protect her. The one major issue I have with this is that, if Shyvana’s dad knew about Demacia and that its petricite could conceal his daughter, why did he not think to bring Shyvana there sooner? I suppose he needed to train her to control her power first, but could the petricite not have also helped with that? Oh well. That’s a bit of a nitpick in the grand scheme of things, I admit.

The other major change here is that now the dynamic between Jarvan and Shyvana has been changed once again. Now, SHE is the one saving HIM, a complete reverse of the original story. While I don’t exactly have a problem with this, I do think Jarvan agreeing to help her fight Yvva comes off as a bit abrupt, and the Demacian soldiers seemed a bit too ready to accept her into their home. I mean, yes, she saved their prince, but fear of magic is rooted DEEP into their society. This is the same nation that would rather let entire fields succumb to disease and rot than rely on mages to sustain the crops.

While there are some other small issues I could nitpick about, I honestly think that the way they handle Jarvan and Shyvana’s team-up is the biggest by far. For a little context: Jarvan’s whole backstory is one of repentance. He gets cocky and tries to retake some land from the control of Noxus without the sanction of the king, and his recklessness and inexperience wind up getting his men killed and himself gravely injured. This is what leads to him being found and saved by Shyvana.

Though Shyvana’s bio would be rewritten one more time, the way in which she and Jarvan meet and team up to take on Yvva remains more-or-less the same. Frankly, I’m not a big fan of this. I like the idea in concept, but the fact is that Yvva isn’t really Jarvan’s antagonist. She is a threat to Demacia and Jarvan does redeem himself by helping to bring her down at Wrenwall, but it feels more like he’s just jumping in to help Shyvana deal with HER problem out of gratitude.

That being said, this is an analysis about SHYVANA’S character, so let’s take a look at her fifth and final bio to determine her current lore state, shall we?

Alright, so I’ll be honest: I think this might be the worst version of her story so-far. To begin with, it’s not even really clear WHY Shyvana is the way she is. At least the previous version of the lore made it clear that a human mage tampering with the egg is the reason why Shyvana became a half-dragon, but in this story, the baby mutates just because of his proximity? Even then, that may not even be the cause. “Whether it was the act of removing it from the nest, or the last moon of autumn giving way to winter, something had changed.” So, yeah, it’s even really clear what caused Shyvana to take on human qualities.

Also, can we just acknowledge another bizarre line from this bio? “From an early age, she was able to shift her form into something monstrous, akin to the half-dragons of ancient myth.” So, hold on, there have been half-dragons before Shyvana? This is something that’s occurred in the past? Can we get some elaboration on this? No? We’re just going to ignore that. Alright then. Moving on.

This version of the bio tries to reintroduce the tragedy of Shyvana losing her father, but it’s honestly handled a lot less gracefully here, in my opinion. He’s just a random human mage that decided to raise her out of pity, and his death is kind of pathetic, honestly. In the previous lore, Shyvana’s dragon father gave his life defending her, whereas this nameless mage is just killed unceremoniously in Yvva’s rampage. Even his burial feels rushed and anticlimactic.

As for Jarvan’s introduction this time, well… My prior thoughts still stand. Shyvana’s lore has always been connected to his, but I truly believe their relationship was handled best in the third version of the lore, where they had a mutual enemy to bring down. Hell, he doesn’t really even do much in the showdown against Yvva other than have his soldiers fire arrows. It all feels like a hyper-condensed version of Shyvana’s fourth bio, which is understandable given how long it was, but a story like this kind of needs to be properly fleshed out if we’re meant to actually CARE about the individual story beats.

 So, with all that said and established, let’s get into the meat of this one, shall we? Without further ado, I present to you all: my reinterpretation of Shyvana’s backstory. Please, enjoy.

Among the many breeds of dragon that inhabit Runeterra, few command as much fear and respect as the rare elemental drakes. Though they command the primal magics of the world itself, elemental drakes are be reclusive creatures, typically lashing out only when their territory is disturbed. For this reason, the lands near Nockmirch remained untouched by mortal settlements for centuries, as all knew the name of the beast who ruled them: Yvva, the fire drake.

For years, Yvva inspired tales of terror and reverence alike, feasting on travelers and traders who dared to intrude upon her lands. Even her mate, Urgrin, feared Yvva’s power and fiery temper. Unbeknownst to Yvva, Urgrin was no ordinary dragon: in truth, he was a member of an ancient vastayan tribe with the power to take on draconic form. As his kind dwindled in number, what few of Urgrin’s people remained scattered to the winds, with Urgrin himself maintaining his draconic form constantly in the hopes of finding a strong partner.

At first, Urgrin believed himself fortunate to partner with an elemental drake, but as their clutch of eggs began to hatch, he felt himself growing increasingly worried. Only one of these younglings bore Yvva’s primal fire, meaning that the rest would likely be discarded or eaten. When the final egg hatched, Urgrin was shocked to find not a dragon youngling, but a girl with purple skin and horns. He’d not thought it possible, but this child was vastayan just as he was, and her birth would expose Urgrin’s secret to Yvva.

Fearing for both his life and girl’s, Urgrin fled the under the cover of night. Resuming his vastayan form for the first time in decades, Urgrin took shelter in the northern mountains, hoping that the cold of the Freljord would deter Yvva’s pursuit. There, he raised his daughter in secret, naming her Shyvana out of his lingering respect for her mother.

For a time, Shyvana and Urgrin lived in relative solitude. Urgrin taught Shyvana all about her vastayan heritage, but as she grew, it became apparent that Shyvana had inherited something from her mother as well: the primal elemental magic of a fire drake. Urgrin spent years teaching Shyvana how to harness her rage, hoping to keep his daughter from succumbing to the same fiery temperament as her mother. Though this training seemed effective at first, Shyvana’s power only grew with time. This power, in-turn, became a beacon, luring Yvva to the far north in pursuit of her stolen child and traitorous mate.

One day, as Shyvana was returning from a hunt, she was shocked to find her house ablaze. Two great dragons clashed in the skies above, one of whom she instantly recognized as her father. Shyvana tried to join the fight, only for Yvva to turn her wrath on the half-blood child. Urgrin shielded Shyvana from his mother’s fury, astonishing even Yvva with his strength. Even so, Urgrin was clearly losing the fight, and so he bid Shyvana to flee south to a land called Demacia, where petricite walls could dampen her magic and shield her from Yvva’s wrath. Begrudgingly, Shyvana did as told, trekking through the mountains as her father gave his life on her behalf.

After a long, hard trek, Shyvana finally reached the land her father spoke of: Demacia, a kingdom made of petricite. She quickly found herself an outcast, forced to hide from the magic-fearing humans that lived inside petricite walls. And yet, just as her father said, those same walls served to dim her power and hide Shyvana from her mother’s fury. Even still, Yvva would not relent so easily.

For years, Yvva scorched Demacian settlements near the border in search of her daughter, forcing the Shyvana to remain constantly on the move. Hunted by her mother and persecuted by the people around her, Shyvana found herself utterly alone in the world. Finally, after years of dogged pursuit, Shyvana had had enough. Embracing her inner fire, Shyvana took flight on blazing wings and ascended the mountains near Nockmirch, where she found Yvva waiting for her.

The two drakes clashed for hours, primal flame against primal flame. Their battle charred the nearby plains and melted stone, yet for all her ferocity, Shyvana was ultimately no match for her mother’s fury. Yvva sent her daughter plummeting into a nearby river, content to leave her half-breed daughter to drown. As Yvva fled, however, Shyvana dragged herself out of the water, reverting back to her humanoid form as she gasped for breath. Battered and beaten, Shyvana wandered blindly for days, knowing full-well that her mother would likely come for her again soon.

Eventually, Shyvana encountered a young man in charred armor at the base of the Argent Mountains, who himself looked to be barely clinging to life. She learned that this man, too, had sought to challenge Yvva and lost. His soldiers had sacrificed themselves on his behalf, leaving the young man stranded and alone. Sensing an unusual kinship with this stranger, Shyvana offered to bring him to the nearest Demacian settlement, and to her surprise, the stranger agreed. Even after revealing herself to be Yvva’s daughter, the stranger bore her no hostility.

The people of Cloudfield were not so inviting. At first, many were terrified of Shyvana, and yet their fear turned to elation when they realized who her companion was. This man, she learned, was none-other than the prince of Demacia himself: Jarvan IV. Seeking to end Yvva’s reign of terror on his kingdom’s borders, the prince had set out with a handful of elite soldiers, only to return to home in shame and defeat. For coming to his aid, the people of Cloudfield begrudgingly allowed Shyvana to remain amongst them to heal her wounds while the prince .

Though grateful for their hospitality, Shyvana knew her presence would only draw Yvva to her sooner or later. As she made to depart, Shyvana was approached by Jarvan once again, this time with a proposition: alone, they had failed to defeat the fire drake, but together they may stand a chance.

Jarvan and Shyvana traveled to the fortress of Wrenwall, where they began to develop a plan. Jarvan would organize his troops and set traps in place for Yvva, while Shyvana flew ahead to garner her mother’s attention. Though reluctant to place her faith in these mere humans, Shyvana understood that this would be her final chance to avenge her father. Sure enough, when Shyvana neared Nockmirch once more, Yvva’s furious cry shook the heavens themselves as she began her pursuit.

Once again, the fire drakes clashed, but this time Shyvana wasn’t planning to defeat her mother with raw force. Instead, she led Yvva closer and closer to the fortress of Wrenwall, where Jarvan and his soldiers were waiting. Believing her daughter’s retreat an act of cowardice, Yvva was taken totally off-guard by the volley of petricite bolts launched from the fortress’s ballista. As the bolts tore into her scales, Yvva felt her power weakening, and Shyvana was quick to capitalize on this. Once again, their battle was intense, yet Shyvana now had the upperhand as Jarvan himself led a new battalion into the fray.

Even weakened, Yvva fought hard until her last breath. She tore at her daughter’s scales and devoured Demacian soldiers, yet in the end, the fire drake was outnumbered and outmatched. Shyvana sank her teeth into her mother’s neck while Jarvan plunged a spear deep into her forehead. In that moment, the flames of Yvva finally flickered out, and the soldiers of Wrenwall cheered in triumph.

In the aftermath of the battle, Jarvan approached Shyvana once again, this time with another proposition: in exchange for her loyalty, he would offer her a place among Demacia’s elite. Awed and humbled by the prince’s might and valor, Shyvana knelt and swore her loyalty on the spot. Though many still harbor doubts about the half-dragon, she serves her prince with undying devotion and respect. Shyvana’s fire burns for Demacia and Demacia alone, and those who threaten her new home are to learn that even a half-dragon’s fury is not to be trifled with.

Alright, so, the biggest and most notable change from the get-go: I made Shyvana vastayan rather than human. I understand that this might seem a bit controversial to some, but it doesn’t really contradict or change anything. Shyvana is simply called the half-dragon; there’s never any mention of what her other half actually is.

Ideally, I would have liked to keep her half-human as well, but since Riot clearly wants to remove the concept of dragon-human intercourse to produce an offspring naturally, the only option that remains is the contrived method of “it happens because a human was near the egg.” Like, that’s the same sort of logic as Rengar becoming anthropomorphic because he was raised by a human hunter as a cub. It’s just silly, if we’re being honest, and the human “father” in Shyvana’s last two bios has been such a non-entity that they don’t really even bother to give him a name.

So yes, I’m making Shyana half-vastayan, not unlike Sett in a way. Again, I get why some might take issue with this, but I feel like that’s a much easier and simpler route to go with. Of course, the other big change would mean rewriting a bit of Jarvan’s story as well, though that’s kind of inevitable; the two are so closely intwined that changing one story kind of has to impact the other.

Now, I don’t think J4’s current bio is bad enough to warrant a full rewrite, but as I stated before: I think his story would work a lot better if he also had a personal reason to fight Yvva in the first place. I think that having him lose soldiers to her rather than some random Noxians fits more thematically and gives him more reason to team up with Shyvana. I also wanted to give him a bigger role to play in bring Yvva down, to further emphasize that she��s an opponent Jarvan and Shyvana could only defeat by working together.

Overall, Shyvana’s current lore state isn’t the worst I’ve seen, but it could definitely do with some improvements. I hope you all enjoyed my take on her character, as this was possibly the lengthiest retcon to write. As always, though, feel free to share your thoughts down below, and I’ll see you all next time!

[naussensei]

King of Conquerors: The Rise of a King

by

XianKar

Summary:  Join Waver in his journey to Alexanders’s past before becoming Alexander the Great, meeting the Ionian Hetairoi, facing wars for power and a new enemy that will lead us closer to the Root. 

Note that his is an interactive fic; you choose the ending. Choices start in Chapter 19.

Tags: Time travel, Ancient Greece AU, Historical Fantasy, Adventure Romance, Politics and War, Ionioi Hetairoi, Childhood Friends, Slow burn, Bromance, Bromance to Romance, Some references to ancient gods and lore.

Fandoms: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night, Fate/Grand Order, Lord El-Melloi Case Files. (Although can be read without much previous knowledge of fate universes)

Characters: Waver Velvet/Lord El-Melloi II, Alexander/Iskander, Hephaestion (OC), Hephaestion (faker), Merlin. Other original characters based on historical characters.

Words: 63.535

Chapters:19/20+

Schedule: Weekly update

Link to entire work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737967?view_full_work=true

Keep reading for chapter update below

Chapter 19 : In the Front Line 

Notes:

There are two routes from here, each one with also different endings to choose from. This is the first choice you can make. Please comment with your preferred option. The option with more votes will be posted first, however, both will be posted.

The desert was calm and silent under the light of the stars. A warm wind blowing against the endless dunes; the sand burying the remains of the corpses left by the crows.

But the heat of the desert did not reach the comfort of Waver’s tent, where he rested after a long battle. He was lying on the carpet that served as his bed. After a long yawn and a stretch, he sat on the carpet, his eyes catching his own reflection on a silver tray by his bed. He barely recognized the man in front of him. He had gotten so used to having his hair tied, he had not noticed it had grown past his shoulders. His skin had also gotten some color under the sun.

He smiled, briefly, pleased by the image in front of him, then skillfully dressed himself in his favorite robe to join his friends outside.

“There he is!” Said Alexander, rising a cup when he saw Waver coming out of his tent. “Come join us!”

Macedonian soldiers chanted and laughed, drank and cheered. Waver walked among them, finding a place on the ground between Alexander and Hephaestion. Ptolemy joined them, handing Waver a golden cup full of wine.

“You did well today!” Alexander praised his soldiers, energetically. “Another great victory for the Macedonian army!”

The men cheered and clapped.

“Especially Waver!” Added Ptolemy. “I was surprised. You have become a fine soldier”

“I barely managed to raise a barrier to protect us”. Waver denied. He stared at his wine, hesitant.

“Drink!” Alexander ordered, wrapping an arm around Waver’s neck with clumsiness.

“You are drunk.” Noticed Waver, a strong scent of alcohol on Alexander’s mouth.

“Nonsense!” He said with a smile, bringing his cup to Waver’s lips.

“I’m not a baby! I can drink by myself!” He yelled, slightly annoyed. He took the cup away from him and had a sip of wine.

“Baby Waver.” Alexander chuckled, delighted, pinching one of Waver’s cheeks.

“Stop it”. Waver grabbed his hands. Alexander lost his balance and fell forward. The wine spilled all over them.

Ptolemy grabbed Alexander by his clothes and lifted him in the air, barely able to stand straight himself.

“Look what you have done,” He said, “Now he needs another one”.

“You are both drunk…” Waver sighed. “Hephaestion, say something…”

But Hephaestion was already passed out on the ground.

“How the hell did you all get so drunk while I was away?!” He yelled in frustration. “How long did I sleep?!”

“Come on, Waver”, Ptolemy, ignored him, pouring more wine into Waver’s cup. “We’ve been in this Zeus-forsaken desert for months now. We have finally taken the advantage and made the Persians fall back! It is time to celebrate!”

“The Persians!” Suddenly yelled Hephaestion as he heard that word.

“No, you dumb drunk,” Alexander smacked him softly on the head, “They are already gone”.

“Who are you calling dumb, you idiot?”

Hephaestion pushed him. Alexander hit his back against Ptolemy, whose cup slipped his hands, spilling the wine again.

“Alright that’s it…” Ptolemy turned to hit Alexander but got Hephaestion instead.

Waver took a deep breath, ready to witness another pointless fight between the three of them.

“Here we go…” He said, rolling his eyes. This time he poured himself some wine.

“Alexandros,” Parmenion interrupted them. “A letter from your mother”

The three of them instantly stopped and turn to Parmenion. Alexander sobered up a little to read the letter.

Waver and the rest studied the prince’s face, slowly brightening as he read it.

“And?” Asked Waver, impatient.

“She is doing well in Epirus,” he said as he rolled back the paper. “Her brother’s troops are taking over in the northern front. It seems like they have stopped the Persians over there as well.”

Alexander paused to pour himself more wine.

“The good news is that my mother said we will meet in Pella very soon”.

“That’s great news!” Observed Waver.

“Finally!” Hephaestion said, lying down on the ground, “I miss my bed”.

“I’m sure Cleo will be the happiest to see us, right Ptolemy?” Alexander’s eyebrows raised and fell several times watching Ptolemy’s joy on his face.

“R-right”. He said, suddenly serious. “She will be happy to see us. All of us”.

Alexander and Hephaestion exchanged looks and smirked at Ptolemy in a suggestive way.

“What are you looking at?!” He asked, aggressively.

Waver giggled, and so did they.

Alexander now got on his feet. He stood tall, cup in hand, turning to his soldiers.

“The war has finally come to an end!” He announced. Everyone turned to him.

“You have fought bravely! And those who have perished, may their souls watch over us from the stars, among Orion and the heroes, and grant us a safe journey home!”

The men clamored with enthusiasm, chanting Alexander’s name.

“But this victory we owe to every single one of you!” He continued.

“To Ptolemy, the wise and cautious, we owe our impeccable defense!”

He paused to appreciate the round of applause. Ptolemy scratched his head nervously, slightly blushing, then smirked.

“Hephaestion’s bravery for bringing us our greatest offense!” He grabbed Hephaestion’s wrist and lifted his hand. Hephaestion smiled humbly.

“And Parmenion’s experience, guiding us with the right strategy”. He raised his cup towards the man, who answered with a nod of acknowledgement.

“And last but not least…”

Alexander lowered his voice, slowly turning to Waver.

“Waver’s kindness and perseverance, whose compassion for the needed will always be remembered”.

Waver’s heart suddenly stopped, feeling all the eyes on him at once. Alexander gave him a warm smile.

Waver looked around him. Dozens of gentle faces of gratitude moved him to tears.

“Cheers!” They all said in unison, clashing their cups, splashing wine everywhere. Everyone drank, except Waver, who subtly put his cup down. He smiled and wiped his tears of joy.

But the smile quickly faded. Something begun to bother him.

“I think I’m a little drunk,” He excused himself, getting up. “I’ll call it a night”.

“Huh?” Alexander turned to him, disappointed. “So early?” He grabbed his hand with clumsiness.

Waver smiled at him.

“Thank you”. He said, gently letting go of his hand. Then slowly headed back to his tent.

-

With his head against the pillow, Alexander’s words kept echoing in Waver’s mind.

“…Waver’s kindness and perseverance, whose compassion for the needed will always be remembered”.

He wondered how many people would actually remember him years from now.

He turned to his side, giving it some more thought.

He thought of how many people had helped him in the past, and how he remembered every single one of them. He thought of the old couple in Japan, waiting for him to write them a letter. Mister… what was his name?

He closed his eyes, thinking so hard had made him suddenly tired.

Waver…

Someone called. The voice of a man, soft yet playful. Like a childish melody. A sudden scent of flowers in his nose.

You need to go back…

“Back where?”  Waver wondered.

The memory of the Clock Tower appeared in his mind.

“I NEED TO GO BACK!” He suddenly jumped from the carpet; eyes opened wide.

The past few months he had been so focused on surviving the war against the Persians that he had completely forgotten about finding a way to return to the present. He had gotten used to his new life in ancient Greece, nearly forgetting about the comfort of the modern days.

He panicked for a moment.

He was never supposed to help in this war that much. Even if he had not been using his magic against the Persian soldiers. He was never meant to be remembered by these people. He was probably not even supposed to stay in a different time for that long. He recalled his deceased professor Lord El-Melloi’s words in his first lessons.

“…Not only will you affect the past with your interactions, but also your entire being. If you alter something from the past, even your existence may never occur in the future…”

A cold sweat ran down his face.

He tried to remember his life in London. He pictured his apartment, the classroom, the Clock Tower. Everything still fresh in his mind after thinking hard. But… what had he been doing before that?

His thoughts were all jumbled. He shook his head a couple of times. What was he doing in Japan back then? Why couldn’t he remember that old couple’s names?

The image of a grail and the clash of swords flashed through his memories.

Then, a horse. A chariot. A red cape. And golden chains.

“Rider”. He whispered. The blurry image of a man haunted his memories. His face remained in the shadows.

“This is bad…” He told himself. “I need to get out of here, soon.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. But something else was disturbing him now.

“Help!”

He heard people screaming outside.

“Somebody! Help!”

Indistinct cries in the distance.

Little by little, soft lights appeared from different directions around the tent. Waver felt suddenly hot.

“A fire?” He thought, wiping the sweat from his forehead. His eyes caught on his wrist, where his bracelet glowed bright blue.

“I need to find Alexander!”

He rushed out of the tent. A strong smell of smoke and gunpowder. Fire arrows falling from the sky, like shooting stars. The Macedonians ran around the burning tents in circles, food and war loot already reduced to ashes.

“Alexander!” Waver looked for him, but the smoke made it hard for him to see.

He rushed to the place they were gathering a moment ago, but there was nobody there.

“Alexander!” He called again, sore throat, eyes itchy. “Hephaestion! Ptolemy! Parmenion! Where are you?!”

He looked around but could only see Macedonians wandering erratically. A few horses ran loose in different direction. He hid under a broken chariot, fearing for the Persians to find him.

“Wait a moment”, he realized. “I don’t see any Persians”.

He looked again. He could only see men in Macedonian armors. He glanced down at his bracelet; the blue gleam was still there.

“This can’t be anything good”, he feared.

Another blueish gleam caught his eye from the other side of the camp.

“Alexander!”

He could distinguish the prince’s silhouette behind the screen of smoke. He rushed towards him.

A second shape appeared as the wind blew away the smoke. A Macedonian soldier held a spear through Alexander’s leg.

The prince fell, blood pouring onto the ground.

Waver ran even faster.

He watched the soldier lift his spear one more time.

Waver searched for Alexander’s dagger on the ground beside him. Without thinking, his body moved, picking up the sword to slam it with all his strength against the spear. His arms were shaking; he could feel the vibration of the clashing metals down to his elbows.

The soldier stepped back. Eyes golden and gray staring at him with an empty expression.

The soldier pointed the spear at him; Waver charged again. This time the soldier blocked Waver’s blow in a single movement, sending him several meters away.

“Waver…” Alexander called, helpless, half conscious from the ground.

But the soldier was fast.

Before he could even see anything, Waver felt a sharp blade in the middle of his chest.

“Waver!” Cried Alexander, watching him bleed with a dagger in his chest. He tried to get up, but the soldier now ran to Alexander, holding him against the ground.

Waver remained still, like frozen in time. A magical pentagram appeared underneath Waver’s feet, and a hand materialized around the dagger.

Alexander could not see well with the soldier holding his head against the ground, but he glanced at the shadow that now held Waver in its arms.

“It’s the creature…” He feared the worst. “It’s Zurvan…”

Tears of rage clouded his eyes.

“Why?!” The prince yelled, struggling in vain. “A Macedonian…. How could you do this to your own people?!”

“My own people?” A female voice reached his ear. He saw the soldier remove her helmet, letting her purple locks fall to her shoulder.

“My own people tried to kill me”, she whispered to his hear, still holding him against the ground. “They thought I was a monster, cursed by the gods. Your people”.

“Who are you?”              

“Anonumos”. She used the Greek word for “nameless”.

“I was never given a name” She continued. “Raised to become a shadow, with no will of my own.”

“What do you want? Revenge?”

What did she want indeed? The girl had no answer.

To her surprise, Alexander grabbed her hand.

“Let me help you…” He said, panting, “I am sorry for what you have suffered- But, please, do not let my friends suffer”.

“Help?” She wondered. What did he mean by that? The touch of his hand had a certain warmth she had never felt before. She reached for his hand, hesitant.

Her thoughts were disrupted by an arrow piercing her shoulder.

“Get away from him!”

Hephaestion’s voice gave Alexander hope.

“Waver…”, Hephaestion turned to him, gasping with horror at the image of Waver being consumed by a shadow. He shot an arrow at it, and the creature vanished before it could materialize completely.

Waver fell on the ground, unconscious, the magical circle still active underneath him.

“No…” Anonumos let go of Alexander for a moment, turning to Hephaestion.

He recognized the slave girl’s distinctive eyes, even in the Macedonian uniform she was wearing.

“You?” He said, pointing an arrow at her.

The girl heard Alexander move behind her. Without turning, she threw her spear at Alexander’s other leg to pin him to the ground. Alexander cried in pain, nearly fainting. His head became lighter as he felt the blood leaving his body.

“Hephaestion”. The girl whispered. Her words traveled to Hephaestion’s brain, as fast and stinging as poison.

An intense headache forced Hephaestion to drop his bow.

His knees week, his blood boiling. He was losing control of his own body. A loud beeping in his ears was driving him insane.

“What are you doing to me?!” He twitched in the ground, covering his ears. A burning fever taking over him.

“Do it”.

“Get out of my head!”

He looked up; eyes as black as the night. A deep groan escaped his throat, like a wild beast.

“You and I are the same, Hephaestion”. The girl whispered, walking closer to him. “Is this what you really want?”

Hephaestion got on his feet. His body shivered, yet he managed to pick up his bow. He struggled to tense the string to point an arrow at her.

She stared at him. A hypnotizing glare. Hephaestion’s body did not respond to him anymore.

I’ve looked deep into your heart. This is what you truly want. We are the same; I am your blood. Whatever you want, I want it too.

He heard her speak these words in his head.

No…

He opened his mouth but only a loud growl came out.

The beeping in his ears became louder, now unable to hear anything else. His sight faded to black.

Anonumos’ glare slowly shifted towards Waver.

Hephaestion’s eyes followed hers, his hands shaking as they slowly moved to point at Waver.

Hephaestion: A. Breaks free from Anonumos’ control B. Loses control and is consumed by darkness

Notes 2:  I would like to thank all the readers and supporters that have followed this story, and especially thank the people who have commented and expressed their preferences and/or possible endings. Thank you for your patience, now the time has come!

[thedinanshiral]

Magic, mages and more

If you’ve played the Dragon Age series you’ve probably noticed some differences here and there. Origins was heavy on tactics, something Inquisition lacks considerably, and Dragon Age 2 allowed for blood magic, which Origins had little of and Inquisition barely mentions. All lore aside, we can experience magic in Thedas more closely through our mage companions in each game ( or your character if you chose the mage class).

First, i’ll discuss briefly how magic spells have changed throughout the games, then i’ll analyse a mage pattern and how it broke. And finally i’ll entertain some future over the top possibilities.  

Origins and DA2 were designed primarily to be played on PC, and we see this more clearly on Origins through its tactics-heavy gameplay. Spells in Origins are more suitable to a carefully planned combat strategy, with passive and status-inducing spells presented in a variety that didn’t survive into the following games. DA2 also allows for tactics but the combat system is more dynamic, it’s not necessary to pause/unpause 5 times per second, one can do battles in real time and as a result spells were considerably reduced, prioritizing active/offensive spells, and almost entirely eliminating status-inducing and supportive spells.

Unlike its predecessors, Inquisition was way more console-friendly and all but eliminated the tactics system from Origins; now combat was fast, direct, with a tactical screen capable of basic commands and overall limited, and spell trees were reduced to the bare minimum, with elemental attacks, and very few defensive spells, having completely eliminated healing.

So, in short, summonings disappeared after Origins, as did most of the Creation, Spirit and Entropy trees. By Inquisition, none of the glyphs or hexes survived. Some spells icons from DA2 reappear in Inquisition, but most from Origins never made it past it, and some spells changed name or spell tree between games. There’s a gradual simplification of spell trees from one game to the next, adjusting combat to a more straightforward style, with less support or status-inducing spells and an increasing concentration of active spells with enhancing passive ones. On the other hand, Healing all but disappeared from Inquisition spells, “spirit healer” not even surviving as a specialization, with the only healing spell available being Revival which as the name implies you can only use on an already fallen party member. Surprisingly, Dispel made it through all three games staying in the same spell tree, Spirit, and elemental spells remained the same across all games, with minor changes.

Now let’s take a look at all our main mage companions.

In Origins we have Morrigan (apostate, shapeshifter), and Wynne (circle mage, spirit healer, vessel for spirit of Faith). In DA2 we have Merrill (dalish, blood mage), and Anders (former circle mage turned apostate, healer, vessel for spirit of Justice/Vengeance). In inquisition however we get three mages: Dorian (Tevinter pariah, pyromancer, necromancer), Vivienne (circle loyalist, icemancer, knight-enchanter) and Solas (apostate, electromancer,rift mage).

Just in case the pattern isn’t clear enough..In both games we get an apostate and formally educated and trained mage, a mage who lived in the wild and a mage who lived in cities, a mage who dwells in obscure or forbidden magic used for offense and a mage dedicated primarily to healing and support, a mage who deals in dangerous magic but remains their own and a mage who despite dealing in safer magic harbours a spirit within (by Chantry dogma, an abomination).

This pattern is broken in Inquisition; while we still get an apostate and a circle mage, we also get a mage that while not from the circle still isn’s technically an apostate (Dorian), we also get no healer but we do get a mage that specializes in obscure magic (necromancy), and we don’t really get a mage that has lived in the wild but one who’s lived outside of Thedosian society (Solas, being who he is and having recently woken up from the longest nap ever). And instead of getting a mage sharing their body with a spirit of the Fade, we get an ancient elf who secretely is an elvhen god and the creator of the Veil. Solas breaks the pattern (as well as everything else, apparently).  

I’ll focus on Inquisition from now on and leave Solas for last. 

Auto-level evidences the default element of choice of each mage. Solas is an electromancer, Dorian is a pyromancer, and Vivienne is an icemancer. Dorian preferring fire makes sense as a Tevinter who constantly complains the South is cold, implying his homeland has a warmer weather he sorely misses. Vivienne choosing cold spells goes perfectly with her personality, presenting herself as an ice queen.

Here is where it begins to get a bit tricky: Specializations.

Dorian’s is Necromancy, which would make a lot of sense...if he was Nevarran. Being a Tevinter it’d make more sense for him to be a Blood Mage. But Origins and particularly DA2 already exposed blood magic, painted it in all its evil colours, made it pretty clear it’s the wrong kind of magic to use for all the dangers it entails. By the time we get Inquisition, we face an actual Magister Siderial and Tevinter is painted as this degenerate empire full of evil blood mages, so getting a blood mage specialization was out of the table. Therefore our Tevinter ally got the next most questionable line of magic, necromancy. Because nothing says “almost evil” as raising up the death to fight for you and draining lifeforce from your enemies.

Next we have Vivienne who specialises as a Knight-Enchanter (KE). She’s a Circle mage, a Loyalist at that, and KE is a path reserved for Circle mages allowed to engage in combat when requested. But we learn from Solas that the powers used by Knight-Enchanters have their origin in the Arcane Warriors of the ancient elves. Vivienne has no known connection to anything elven, so her being able to become a KE is just another example of the cultural appropriation of elven elements and knowledge done by humans and the Chantry. 

None of the specializations are entirely new, as already stated KE takes from Arcane Warriors, much of the Necromancer tree comes from the previous games’ Entropy trees, and the Primal and Force trees lend some spells to the supposedly brand new Rift tree. 

Then there’s Solas, who is the default Rift Mage once specializations become available. The Rift spell tree is a post-Breach occurrence, as it was developed by mages studying the Breach and resulting rifts that appeared all over Thedas. It should have unique spells yet it recycles old ones: Stonefist no longer deals physical damage as it did in Origins and DA2 when it was in the Primal tree and meant hurling rocks at the enemy, but spirit damage as it now involves summoning a boulder directly from the Fade. Similarly, DA2’s Force spell Fist of the Maker and subsequent upgrades, Maker’s Hammer and Maker’s Fury, described as “slamming enemies into the ground” with some invisible force became Veilstrike in the Rift tree of Inquisition, there described as “smashing nearby foes to the ground” by “recreating your own fist from from the essence of the Fade”.

Knowing what we know about Solas, his specialization makes sense, he’s responsible for the Veil’s existence so of course he’d know how to manipulate its properties. He’s Fen’Harel, after all. 

Still with me? Good, because this ride is about to get bumpy.

As the default Rift mage he can use Veilstrike, recreating his “own fist from the essence of the Fade”,  but Veilstrike is actually a rename of Fist of the Maker…So what Solas is really doing whenever he casts Veilstrike is casting the Fist of the Maker. By recreating his own fist..It’s all in the name. Fist of the Maker pre-dates Rift magic, but its rebranding as Veilstrike is post-Breach and named after the Veil and not the Maker, possibly because the one who introduces us to this particular spell now is not Andrastian but the ancient elvhen god and creator of the Veil.  Technically speaking  we could say Solas, having created the Veil ages ago and therefore being the one responsible for the present reality of Thedas, is then, in a way, its maker. It’s a wild idea, I know, and there are some bits of lore scattered around that could support it, but i’m not jumping into that abyss yet-

In addition, let’s go back to his auto-leveled spells. At first sight there’s no basis for Solas being an electromancer. But like his Rift specialization, his magic preferences are lore/plot oriented. To consider:

Solas prefers the Storm tree. Skyhold is, by its very name, the place from where the Veil was installed. Some codices found at Skyhold mention electricity being used in unknown rituals at Skyhold’s location. Solas was responsible for creating the Veil.

With this in mind it can be concluded that Solas has always been an electromancer, and even used his electric powers in some way to help put up the Veil in the past.

tl;dr Solas was originally an electromancer and is a Rift Mage because he created the Veil and knows it better than anyone else. Also, he may be the Maker. (loljk or am i)

Now what would you say if I told you Solas possibly also does blood magic? Too much of a stretch? Maaaybe..Except maybe not. He’s not against it, thinks of it as simply a means to an end, and doesn’t disapprove of it unless it’s done in excess for all the wrong reasons (as they do in Tevinter) or is used to limit freedom like when used to bind unwilling spirits or control people’s minds. It’s just an idea, but there must be an explanation why blood magic and lyrium (titan blood, so, still blood magic) can be used to tear the Veil open. The Magisters did it before, and a second time when Corypheus sacrificed Divine Justinia in a ritual that also involved...Solas’ Foci. That is, Fen’ Harel’s Foci.

From Tevinter Nights we learn Solas is after the red lyrium idol (again, titan blood) which he claims belongs to him and is a necessary element for the ritual he must perform to take down the Veil. A ritual for which he’s willing to destroy Thedas as we know it, regrettably causing the dead of thousands. For all we know, those deaths are a necessary sacrifice because they are part of a massive blood magic ritual, Solas’ own death may also be part of it. If the blood of a Divine could be used to open the Breach, what could the blood of Fen’Harel be used for?? Solas’ new powers as Fen’Harel are, frankly, terrifying*, and he’s decided to do whatever it takes to see his mission through, sadly.

And all this leads me to future possibilities..we can imagine with Solas actively trying to take down the Veil there will be places where the Veil gets super thin or begins to disappear. Pockets of space where reality no longer respects natural laws of physics or logic. The Fade is fluid, ever changing, with the right power it can be reshaped at will and i imagine some of that may begin to leak into the physical world, so we may get mage (or spirit! )companions with skills capable of taking advantage of that. 

Lastly, i may add, right now and as far as we can see, Solas is OP as fuck*. He can kill you in your sleep from within your dreams. He can turn you into stone with just thinking of it, which means in a way he can bend the laws of nature of the physical world like he can do in the Fade, If in the future we get close to him,if we get our hands on artifacts or intel.. it won’t because we gathered the right people and resources, it won’t be because of clever tactics and espionage, it won’t be at all because we did anything right. It’ll be because he allows it, because he let us get that far. 

If we stop him at all it’ll be because he wants to be stopped.   

(Apologies in advance if some of this is poorly written, i revised it so many times words no longer look like words. Also half of this is just wild speculation on my part and nobody has to agree with me, after 5 years i may be connecting imaginary dots but hey, it’s fun! If you read this far...i am so sorry, thanks)

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 18 pt 2: Yami Visits Yugi in Hell, California

So, last we left the team, we were running straight into Hell, which is located about where the IRL Costco is.

Everyone except Tea, who is apparently way too scary of a person to run into Hell.

So the rules of the spirit realm are that if you have more than one person too many vengeful spirits will be present, but like...how many vengeful dead spirits does Tea have??? The implications of Tea’s former life here are kind of a lot. Anyway, no Tea’s allowed.

TBH, Yugi saw Tea running after him into Hell to pull out his soul he would probably be too scared of the implied commitment to come out.

So, lets get a rollcall of vengeful spirits going, remember Season One?

holy crap, that’s right, it’s PaniK.

(more dead guys under the cut)

Then we have the twins who only spoke in rhyme and...I checked the notes here..they didn’t die. They were absolutely fine the last time we met them. But I dunno...maybe Pegasus got bored and sacrificed them to the crypt during Season 2.

Then we come across this guy.

So according to Bro, Bandit Keith burned alive in the manga or something, while in the show he got away scott free from that warehouse that was on fire in the beginning of S2. My brother has a lot of spicy headcanons but like...

(bro note: I can’t find any reference on the internet easily so it didn’t happen. I just heard it somewhere. Maybe Pharaoh regrets not mind wiping Keith.)

...I feel like even if he’s dead in the Manga you can’t just have him dead here without me lifting my own Stars and Stripes colored eyebrows in doubt. If this guy were to die, it would have to be by very excessive fireworks, and other than that burning warehouse, we’ve had no other opportunities to do it.

Ah...it’s...this guy. Who never had a name, ever.

Why would you even put him in this montage?

And then we get two people that I know for certain can’t be kicking it.

So it seems to me that everything happening here is probably not real. This is all Yami’s head, Yami’s thoughts, and Yami’s guilt. And Yami is already really, really hard on himself. He lives with a lot of demons basically all the time. So he kind of walks through here and is like “whaddup, demons.” because this is a very been there, done that situation.

Can’t believe that Noah and Gozaburo made so little an impact on Yami, as well as all the Big 5 who we’ve killed at least twice, but I guess Yami was kind of sleeping most of that arc.

Other people Yami has dueled in the past that coulllllllllld be offscreen dead that didn’t make the list: 

-The Rare Hunter twins who did a terrorism and fell into a skyscraper

-Alt-rock Kingdom Hearts Mime

-Bonez (who was Bakura’d so like...he might cease to exist on any timeline or anyone’s memories now)

-Pegasus

-BAKURA (Any version of Bakura, honestly. Where is Bakura?)

Anyway, eventually we get to the middle of California Stonehenge, which is where Yugi is currently hanging out like a Star Trek holo deck.

Speaking of hologram--Yugi’s a card right? Yami could have just played Yugi and been like “hey! Can I tell you something?” (and then Seto Kaiba somewhere would notice on his dueling disk facebook that Yugi just plated Yugi Muto’s soul and would be like “Mokuba, we need to ban Yugi’s account, half of his deck is not even tourney legal.”)

And then Yami spends this precious time to talk mostly about himself. Like honestly, he just went halfway to hell (or Millbrea, or whatever this is) just to vent what he basically already knows.

And what makes this conversation kind of strange is that Yami starts going off about how Yugi’s the “pure” side of him, the “light” side of him, if you will. I’ve already touched on how much I disagree with this since Yugi is a freakin madman all on his own. And, this episode goes out of it’s way to do the same.

Because it’s about this point that Yugi starts getting real uncharacteristically mad. It’s lowkey kind of hilarious because it’s like:

And yes, it’s about time that Yugi went off, but it does make you wonder--so is this what Yugi would be like all the time if Pharaoh wasn’t in there, or does Pharaoh assume that Yugi is mad at him, and so his SpiritJourney!Yugi reflect Pharaoh’s own insecurities?

Like, is this even Yugi?

This might not be Yugi at all, this might be just Yami screaming at himself in a desert, which is also very on key for Yami and has been Yami’s whole deal for about (checks watch)...this entire season.

Either way, Yugi’s REALLY pissed off and tired of Pharaohs 49ersfit.

And so, to take this a step further than just screaming at most likely a hallucination of yourself, Yugi pulls out a duel disk and the two decide to play cards because...

...It just always comes back to cards. Can’t have a heart to heart without doing life threatening card games first.

And so they decide to have a card match. It goes just about as smoothly as a card match would go when you consider that this is Yami hallucinating/possibly dueling a ghost of himself/just crawled out of a train crash/just murdered the hell out of Weevil Underwood.

Basically this duel has a very silly gimmick.

Other than playing a lot of the same cards as during the Raphael fight, Yugi spends most of his time just tearing into Yami, which again...justified.

And for just a little blip of an eye, a little tiny moment--he’s almost a Season Zero Yuugi. Just a nice dark magic Yugi with no ghost, just a real bastard underneath those glowing eyes.

But anyway, much like the duel where Yami lost his mind and went evil, it didn’t last more than a few minutes before the duel was over and Yugi was just instantly better. Of all the duels this season--this is the one I would have liked to have 3 episodes of. Just saying.

Yugi’s whole explanation for why he’s done this--and this is a stretch, but I guess it still follows card logic--Yugi decided to use the Oricalchos so that he would become the darkness inside of Pharaoh’s mind (since they are the same person), and so when he lost the game, that darkness inside of himself was taken by the Orichalcos, leaving Pharaoh now darkness-free

...It’s a stretch. They’re both still ripe with dark magic so I don’t think it did what they think it did, lore wise. But yeah, it did make Pharaoh physically fight all his insecurities until he killed them (who was also Yugi, don’t think about it). It was also very manipulative, and I just want to throw out there you should not do this to your best friends.

How many fireballs now has Tea watched Yugi take straight to the chest? At least 3, right? 5?

Anyway, Yami gets reaaaally upset that he killed his fake dead boy who just used fake (but maybe real?) Orichalcos.

Yami just can’t keep any version of Yugi alive.

And just like that, Yugi leaves the series, again.

Kind of.

Again, this Yugi was...probably not even Yugi. This was probably a grief-onset hallucination.

Sure am glad that Pharaoh can talk to this barely-even-Yugi to work out his insecurities instead of the--youknow--the GIRL he’s been kind of dating for the past 4 seasons. Really glad Tea kind of stood on a ledge and was like “Do you need to talk about it!?” While Yami was like “Not Necessary!” while he sort of dueled the ghosts in his head.

Kind of a marvel that the only person Yami knows how to talk to is Yugi (who as we found out this episode might be a crazy person) and...kind of Seto Kaiba (who is definitely a crazy person). That’s about it.

Yami’s had a hard time, but hopefully now he can talk to Joey without getting punched directly in the face. I guess we’ll find out next episode.

And if you just got here, this is a link to read these from the beginning.

Hope y’all are staying safe and inside. Us personally, are stuck inside until at least May 1st. Please pray for my patience.

[jjeong-bun]

through the woods | kim namjoon [m] | [REPOST]

characters: namjoon x reader, mentions of other BTS members

Rating: nsfw, 18+

Genre: werewolf!au, smut, fluff, oneshot

Warnings: smut, mating, biting, heat, impregnation kink, receiving, soft!namjoon, namjoon being an adorably bumbling cutie pie, Jin being a wingman, other sinful stuff

Word count: 9k

notes: reposted 16.06.19

***

There was something so incredibly empty with your reality; a dreary existence filled with morning college classes, night-shifts at the University library and your solidarity with the elderly landlady of your apartment complex the only human connection you had on a daily basis.

You were a self-indulged introvert. Social interaction sapped your energy far too low for you to function properly the next day. But as you returned piles of books back into their respective shelves on a Friday evening, you were filled with a sense of despondency. You body caved within itself into a pit, twisted around as if to fill something. You craved another’s feather-light touch, slipping around your body like star-kissed grazes. You needed companionship, and not from the ratty old toy stuffed in your bedside table.

A soft exhale left your mouth in a short breath, fingers twisting around the trolley as you pushed your way through the aisles of bookcases. The library was expectantly vacant on Friday night, only a few languid bodies. Mr Song, the grandfather-like librarian for the University, sent you a bleary smile as you passed him by.

“I can handle the rest of the shift myself.”  He took the trolley from you, nudging you aside. “You should head home before it gets too late. There’s been an increase of wolf sightings around the area. Remember to text me when you’ve gotten home?”

The rise in wolf sightings was met with both fear and fascination through the campus. Your University’s mascot was a strong, black silhouette of a wolf howling to the sky. Legends say that the University grounds were used as the basis of wolf lore, a key idea that attracted many artists like yourself to come and indulge in the supposed otherworldly experience. As such, wolf sightings were looked on with scepticism and disbelief, after all, most students that claimed to see them were adamant believers of the legend of the grounds.

With sluggish steps, you waved Mr Song goodbye before stepping into the elevator to take you down. You were one of the last ones to leave, fingers gripping your shoulder bag as you stepped out into the numbness of night. The night air was the awakening coldness that you needed, a shower of ice that breezed through you thin cardigan.

Your university was a small campus, not the best in the country but perfect for your needs. Converted from an old family manor, it was surrounded by acres of uncharted woodlands that were the perfect inspiration for your art and a welcomed distraction from the bustling capital of Seoul. As always, you were struck by the quaintness of the area, an echo of a past life you wished to have experienced for yourself. You were old-school; long sleeved jumpers and vinyl records, doodles in moleskine notebooks and poetry from Shelley and his contemporaries.

Taking a shortcut through the woodland, you tried to calm your mind. Nothing seemed more appealing to you then huddled under the covers of your bed. Despite your love of your apartment, you’d be lying if the woodlands weren’t your place. It had little to do with the fact it was outside and more to do with the silence it ushered in, especially during the early hours of the evening when the sun had finally settled behind the banks of clouds in colours of exploding violet.  

You inhaled another large breath, footsteps dragging in the familiar cobbled trail through the woods. You could finally breathe, the emptiness you felt earlier subsiding. It was a lovely feeling, the escapism the woods presented. There was a euphoric moment where it was you alone in the world, just you and the winking moon above the treetops.

A threatening growl broke the tranquil of the night.

The kind of fear that deluged your body was akin to being trapped inside a house whilst a hurricane-ravaged outside. You were in a moment of peace inside the stability of your four walls, but you could hear the danger coming closer and closer.

Sharp intakes of air flooded through your mouth as you turned around hurriedly, a sense of agitation settling into your bones. Tightening the grip on your bag, you ran forward in swift steps. As moonlight faded away, there was barely enough left for shadows. But you could clearly make out the large pooled silhouette of a four-legged animal creeping slowly towards you.

The wolf was ragged and untidy but stalked towards you in the grandeur of animalistic power. A scream ripped through your body, burning at the sides of your throat.  

With a threatening growl, it lunged at you, swiping your legs to the ground. Your bag was ripped from your shoulder, a sharp burn surrounding the junction between your shoulder blade and neck. Pain and panic engulfed your senses as fear filled your lungs. You couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. All you could feel was the claw that punctured your leg, ripping through your jeans in sadistic hunger.

Villainous black eyes glowered down at you, a menace of unyielding muscles of flesh pushing your body down. With a loud growl that rumbled through its belly and the widening of its’ mouth, you reached out for something, anything, to fend it off. A scream ripped through your mouth when it reached forward to try and clamp at your face, your hand reaching around you on the floor as you flinched away.

Gripping a rugged stone, you threw with all your limited strength at its’ body.

It hit the monster’s side, bouncing off in a tame way but gave you time to drag your injured body away. Adrenaline bounded through your body as you found a forsaken tree branch on the ground. Shielding it in front of you, you cried in pain as you tried to stand. Agonising

Tears burned your eyes. “Help! Please, somebody!” You screamed.

The wolf snarled, its’ jagged teeth stepping forward with potent power. Sobs heaved your chest, as you branded the flimsy branch like a weapon, stumbling backwards in pain. “Is anybody there? Please!”

Another howl ripped through the night, deeper, darker, than the wolf in front of you.

“Fuck no, no!” You trembled. This was not happening. You were not about to be eaten by two fucking wolves. You could feel your body slipping, mind becoming hazy as you struggled to stay up. A numbness lay in wait as you forced yourself to stay alert.  

The wolf suspended in time as it heard the call of the other, before a larger beast jumped from the shadows, canine teeth bared in an uncontrollable growl of dominance.

Your mind turned to chaos in the darkness of the night before the moonlight took over. You slipped from consciousness just as the other wolf sank its’ teeth into your attacker’s neck.

***

The heavy sound of footsteps thudding against floorboards was enough to send your eyes snapping open, back straightening up in a tremor of adrenaline. A strangled gasp croaked through your clogged throat, like a hand squeezing your voice out with it’s clenching fingers. You felt a twinge of pain in your left leg, twisting your body up in a taut stretch. The source of the noise, a young man taller than most, was visibly startled. He turned his head towards you, relief flooding his features as he rushes to your side.

It’s then that you finally take in your surroundings. Streams of sunlight bundle through the bedroom and your body is encapsulated with the smooth linen. Your legs were free of your usually constricting jeans, and an oversized, white shirt engulfed your body in waves. The room was a decent size, larger than your small apartment room, with a window seat and stacks and stacks of books covering every nook and cranny.

The man’s fingers reach out towards you in earnest worry but stop just short of actually touching you, as if you are a priceless artefact he is too scared to break.

Your breath caught in your chest, blood rushing through your body as your eyes lifted to meet his.

He had the kind of face that would stop people in their tracks. A chiselled jawline and an aristocratic nose, a smile that sent you to an early grave because of his prominent dimples. Two deep sun rays embedded into cheeks, brightening his sun-kissed face to rival Apollo’s golden statue. Noir, hooded eyes blinked in your direction, worry stained in them as they travelled around your face in search of discomfort or pain. He breathed out a sigh of relief as you pulled yourself up, a warm smile splitting across his face.

“You’re awake. Thank god, I was just about to call Jin hyung.” His voice was thick and smooth, like velvet chocolate or hot morning coffee and was flooded with relief. The smile didn’t leave his lips and you could feel your heart thrum rapidly against the confinements of your chest.

“Who, who are you?” Your voice was rough and grainy, harsh against your throat. “Where am I? What happened?”

The man rested his hands on the bed, before sending you a dimpled, reassuring smile. “My name’s Namjoon. I-I found you in the woods last night.” His forehead crinkled in worry, as he sat at the foot of the bed. “You leg was bleeding a lot.”

Memories from last night erupted through your mind. “There were two of them! Oh my god, they attacked me. I almost-” You gasped out, panicking.

Namjoon rushed forward towards you, hands wrapping around your arms hesitantly as if waiting for your permission. When you seemed to sink into his warmth, he pulled you closer to him, wrapping you closer into his embrace.

“It’s fine,” He whispered. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Fear still pricked you as the emotions from last night replayed in your mind. Your fingers unconsciously tightened on Namjoon’s shirt as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking something. Safety. Security. Namjoon’s hand left your side and instead rose to the top of your head, detangling your hair with the soft touch of his fingers. “You’re safe now.” The feeling that filled you was too intimate, an intensity that should not be experienced between two strangers.

“Namjoon-” The creak of the door startled you, your hand raising to grip Namjoon’s shirt tighter. Namjoon’s reacted swift, pushing you behind him in an act of protection. His body tensed before another face popped his head around the door.

Namjoon visibly relaxed, turning around to you. “Are you okay?” He whispered, hand reaching out to touch your wrist. You nodded your head, a hand resting on your chest to calm your panicked heart.

“Jin hyung,” Namjoon rose from the bed turning towards the other person. You sole attention was now on the other stranger. He too was almost inhumanly handsome like an old golden Hollywood actor, beautifully thick lips and star-studded eyes.

“I’m Jin,” He nodded towards you, sending you a soft smile. “What’s yours?”

You whispered your name, fingers clawing at the sheets that pooled around you. Namjoon repeated your name, lips rolling around each letter as if they were a spell. He never let his dimpled smile leave your gaze.

“Is it okay if I check your leg? I might not be a doctor yet, but it’s better than nothing until you can actually see someone, right?” Jin let out a short laugh, cheery like a child’s giggle.

“Not yet?” You asked. Jin sent you a lopsided smile. “I’m in my fourth year of med school. You’re lucky I’d just got back from placement when Namjoon rang me like a madman crying about you being attacked.”

“I didn’t cry,” Namjoon mumbled, eyes drawn together as he glared at the older man. He moved to the opposite side of the room, towards a window seat, as Jin took his place.

Jin let out a crooked laugh, placing a large first aid box on top of the bed. He motioned towards you with such an earnest smile that you felt obliged to lift your leg up. It wasn’t until then that you felt the twinge of affliction bubble through you.

“Ow.” You groaned in surprise, fingers reaching down towards the pain in your left leg. It was bruised in varying degrees of violets and coal blue, with a white bandage coiled around, seeping a dark scarlet.

“Let me clean this up, okay?” Jin had turned into medic-mode, swiftly cutting through the seams of the bandage. You didn’t notice the way Namjoon would flinch every time you winced as Jin began to cleanse your wound.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Jin reassured. “It looks a lot worse because of all the blood, it’s a superficial scratch, not too deep. I’d get it checked out at the hospital or the college’s health clinic because it looks like an animal scratch, but it’s not infected and you don’t have a fever.”

You thanked him as he wrapped your leg in a gauze. Namjoon’s eyes were trained on Jin’s every movement. “What time is it?”

“It’s five in the morning, the sun just rose,” Namjoon answered. “If you feel well enough, I can walk you back to campus?”

Your eyes followed the way his mouth formed the words, but they were trained solely on his cherry blossom pink lips.

Namjoon called your name, voice snapping you out of your trance. His lips twisted into something other than the sweet smile he had shown you before. A smirk drenched in danger. Fuck, he had caught you staring.

Snapping your eyes away, you twisted your hands around the sheets beneath you in embarrassment. “That would be lovely, thank you.”      

“Well, then that’s sorted.” Jin sent you a kind smile. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m exhausted. I have some afternoon classes and then another night shift at the hospital so I think I’ll squeeze in a nap if I can.”

He cleaned the mess he had made fixing you, discarding soiled bandages and empty packets of gauzes into an adjacent bin. “It was nice to meet you Y/N. Don’t forget to get it checked out, alright? Wouldn’t want all my hard work go to waste.” He grinned a cheeky smile, before tapping Namjoon on the back, what seemed like a silent conversation flowing between them.

Jin left with a wave of goodbye, leaving you alone with Namjoon. The air between the two of you seemed electric, burning with unsaid words.

“Thank you.” You broke the silence. “For saving me.”

He shook his head, dimples blurring your vision. “It’s fine. You shouldn’t walk home on your own at night though. Anything could happen, like being attacked by wolves.” Your voices joined in a unified laugh, his husky laugh ringing like music to your ears.

You pushed yourself off the bed, standing shakily on your two legs. Taking a tentative step forward, you winced at the twinge of discomfort that followed. Namjoon seemed to notice as his hand came to rest around your elbow in support.

“Careful.” He was far too close, and you realised, a head taller than you. Your head reached the middle of his chest, nose bumping against it as you tried to stabilise your movements.

“Sorry,” You mumbled, thankful for his grip on your arm as you limped forward. “Do-Do you think I could borrow some trousers?”

Namjoon had the decency to blush, but you noticed the way his eyes followed the delicate curve of your small legs. “Ye-yeah, hold on.” He stuttered, hands leaving yours to rummage in a large drawer.

He pulled out grey sweatpants, far too long for your short height. “Here.” An uncharacteristic giggle left your lips as he turned on his heel, back facing you as you grappled shoving your injured leg into the trouser hole.

“I’m done now, thanks.” He turned around again, eyes darkened. A soft, dimpled smile slipped across his face, a dusting of pastel stars across the plums of his cheeks.  

His house was larger than any other student accommodation you had seen, but you guessed it made sense if more than two people lived there. From the window of his room, you could see that it was surrounded by acres of woodland, its’ own picturesque cottage surrounded by cobbled pathways leading away into the forest.

“Let’s go?”  Namjoon turned you towards the door, hands braced around your elbow as your body relaxed under the safety of his warmth.

It’s not until you're in the warmth of your bed, filled to the brim with water and anti-inflammatory antibiotics that make you sleep, that you realise you never told Namjoon about the wolves.

***

Life went on as normal as you thought it could, your wound had healed in a matter of hours after Namjoon had dropped you off at home. There would have been no remnants of the night if not for the harsh pink scar of two pink lines running at the back of your left leg. You had gone straight away campus police, who sent out animal control through the woods. They found your tattered cardigan and shoulder bag, both ruined beyond use. You couldn’t salvage the drenched notebooks inside, meaning you had to take off shifts from work to finish rewriting all of your lost notes. Mr Song was more than accommodating, glaring at you in a grandfatherly fashion if you so much as deployed any sort of physical exertion.

Namjoon had been the silver lining in the event, his presence becoming a burst of constant sunshine in your previously cloudy life. When you were well enough to return to work, Namjoon had followed, taking it upon himself to walk you home after every shift. A month had passed since the events in the woods but Namjoon’s presence in your life was as strong as the glaring summer sun.

It was strange to be seen walking around with him. Some of the classmates you were friendly with mentioned how big of a deal he was at the University. He was head of the Debating Society, a philosopher that had girls hooked with his intellect. Yet he decided to choose to spend time with you.

There were rumours about his house as well, and the flatmates that shared it. It turned out that Jin, despite being a fourth-year medical student and clearly being apt at the job, had familial connections with the Board of Education for the college. As such, he and his six roommates, which included Namjoon, were given the cottage grounds in the forests away from the bustle of the campus but close enough to be able to attend.

The rumours ranged from the ordinary to the fantastical. Apparently, the rise in wolf sightings had only occurred after they had moved into the cottage, but you along with the rest of the student population believed it to be a funny story to use to joke around with them.

The more you spent with Namjoon, the more your life became encompassed with the six other boys he lived with. The rumours were proven to be wrong. They were all varying degrees of colours that you didn’t know how they could all survive under one roof, but they somehow made it work. Jin had become an older brother, cracking dad jokes and making life a little more cheerful. Yoongi was a mystery to you at first, but soon became you one of your closets confidence, the two of you have an understanding of the need for silence sometimes. And Hoseok, god Hoseok was a piece of dynamite, always leaving you with your sides splitting whenever he and Jimin teamed up to make you laugh. Jungkook reminded you of your own younger brother, you held such a soft spot for the boy with the cheeky grin who made dirty jokes at Namjoon’s expense. And then there was Jimin and Taehyung, the same-aged friends that invited you into their little group of 95-liners, and you felt complete. And it was all thanks to Namjoon who had broken you out of your shell, step by step.

Mr Song had taken a clear liking to the boy, seeing the effect he had on you.

“Son,” Mr Song had interrupted the two of you on one of your Thursday shifts, resting his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Why don’t you take this one to the coffee shop down the street? She’s been working way too hard and the semester is almost over.”

You let out a fraudulent laugh, eyes turning to slits as you glared at your boss. “What are you talking about Mr Song, I still have an hour left of my shift.” Fuck, this old man was trying to set you up.

Mr Song actually rolled his eyes. “The library is dead because one of the fraternity houses are pulling a party, oh so I hear.” You forgot that Mr Song was the undisputed University grandfather. Everyone told him everything and he always had an unhealthy supply of chocolates for those midnight study snacks.

“We could go,” Namjoon interrupted you. “You know- if you want to that is! It’s completely fine if you don’t want to-”

“No, no, I’d love to go for coffee!” You winced at how much of a mess the two of you were, bumbling over each other’s words. In Namjoon it was adorable, with you the embarrassment swamped like a wave of regret.

Mr Song grinned, leaving the two of you tripping over each other’s words, shades of cherry blossom pink and blush red.

You had thought the not-a-date coffee date would be awkward. But Namjoon had this incredible way of making you feel so comfortable. He didn’t drain you. In fact, you began to crave his presence when he was gone. His witty banters gave you such a high, and his smiles would make any bad day infinitely better. Fuck, you think you were obsessed with his dimples.

There was an undeniable companionship that had begun between you and Namjoon. He was so otherworldly, like a hero in a story. He was giggles and dimpled smiles, warm coffees with extra cream and beige sweaters. The more time you spent with him, the more you became enamoured.

It was little things that caught your attention. The way he always leaned down so you were closer together when you spoke, bending his tall frame so you wouldn’t strain yourself. The way that he was so obviously interested in what you had to say about your art, asking so many questions and being generally enthusiastic made your heart melt. The way his dimples would become so much more prominent when he talked about his roommates, who were more like family than friends and who had taken you in as one of their own. You loved the way his eyes would brighten when he talked about a new book he had started reading or the way he would sometimes wear spectacles that would make his noir eyes so deeper.

The coffee date made you wonder if maybe things could be different. You knew that by now you were deeply infatuated with him. You just needed to know when to, if to, confess.

He was so jittery throughout the date, an adorable blend of nerves and sweetness that you just couldn’t help but hope. But when he dropped you off at your apartment, he left without so much as a hug, and the pit inside you that had been so full with your boys pricked in your stomach like a starving dog tied to a leash, whimpering for more.

***

You knew something was wrong when Taehyung comes to pick you up suddenly after your Friday shift.

Namjoon hadn’t contacted you in almost a week. There was static between the pain, unresponded texts leading to unresponded calls. You contemplated whether to just go to the boys’ shared house but worry at imposing them stopped you.

He smiled at you, looking up from his phone as you nudged him on his side. “Where’s Joonie?”

Taehyung pouted. “Is he all you think about? You didn’t even say hi to me!”

“Hello there, Tae.” You let out a small giggle, ruffling his hair. “But seriously, where’s is he? He hasn’t replied to my texts.” You tried not to let the desperation stifle you.

Taehyung carried your bag in the same way Namjoon did, one strap was thrown over his shoulder. “He has a fever, been sleeping all day. He woke up an hour ago and demanded that I walk you home from work otherwise he’ll tell Jin I was the one who almost burnt down the kitchen.”

You laughed at Taehyung’s obvious sulky attitude, nudging him in the side. But it didn’t stop the pang of worry to twist in your gut. “Is he okay though? Is he drinking lots of water? Is Jin looking after him?”

“Woah, calm down.” Taehyung grinned. “Too many questions to answer all at once. One and two, yes he’s fine, it’s just a fever and he is drinking plenty of water, three, Jin is currently at his bedside waiting on his majesty’s hand as we speak.”

With your mind eased a little, the two of you fell in a comfortable silence as you walked the long way to your apartment. You stayed well away from the path through the woods after your encounter with the wolves, and animal sightings had gone down since.

“So, how is your project going?” Taehyung asked, turning your thoughts away from Namjoon.

Your growl of frustration answered his question as he let out a chuckle at your expense. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me! This project is literally god-sent but my mind is refusing to give me a fucking break.”

“What’s the assignment?” Taehyung, despite studying to be a paediatrician, was as invested in art as you were. It was one of the many things the two of you bonded over.  

“Predators and Prey. Every time I try to draw or research ideas I come up blank. I have no idea what method to use, if I should go for the modernist approach or abstract, or if I should sculpt or paint something. The assignment’s too vague and lenient, it makes me feel like I’m drowning under all the choices!” You whined. “And if that’s not enough, this will be the final piece of the term and the best pieces get to be used in the Art Exhibition that’s happening in the museum next month and I need the extra credit that it’ll bring.”

Taehyung seemed to realise that you didn’t want an answer, just someone to rant to. This was usually Namjoon’s job, but with his absence, you realised how much of your time had been taken up by him. He would calm you down, send you in the right direction. Your lack of friends became all the more prominent.

Taehyung noticed you trail off in thought, eyes wandering down to follow the steps of your scratched flats against the stone pavement. He poked your arm. “What’s wrong, buttercup?”

“I guess I’m just worried.” You sent him a small smile, hoping he wouldn’t worry about you. Taehyung linked your arms together, as you reached your apartment complex.

“Don’t stress too much. Namjoon hyung would kill me.” He grinned cheekily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tell Namjoon oppa to feel better.” You waved at him, already pushing the elevator button to your floor. “And tell him he better reply to my texts otherwise he’s a dead man!”

“Being apart from you, he already is!” You didn’t understand Taehyung’s words, but a blush flushed your cheeks. Did that mean what you thought it did? The doors closed as Taehyung’s boxed smile faded from your view. Pulling out your phone, you fingers hovered over Namjoon’s icon before you quickly typed out a message.

Taehyung just told me you're sick. Don’t be in too much pain. Call me when you’re feeling better

xx

***

The sharp shrill of your phone disrupted the silence of your room, a rude awakening from your slumber. With a lamenting groan, you grabbed the abhorrent device, bleary eyes attempting to adjust to your phone’s harsh light. Jin’s face blared out to you in an emergency shrill, and you swiftly swiped to answer.

“Jin, what’s going on? “Why are you waking me up at… three in the morning? Jin, why the hell are you calling?” You growled.

“There’s a problem with Namjoon,” His voice was rushed, uneasy, agitated.

Your stomach dropped. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to come now. I’ll explain it when you come, but please hurry.”

You were already out of your house, shoving on your coat jacket and slippers. “Is he okay? Jin, please tell me is he okay?”

“He needs you. Just come quickly please.”

“I’m on my way now. I’ll be there in five minutes! Just, tell him I’m coming!”

Namjoon was sick. It was as if you had swallowed a knife, pain stabbing in your stomach. The pit inside your stomach had hallowed out, now filling you with such fear it could swallow your whole body. You needed to get to Namjoon.  

Your body moved on auto-pilot, running out of your apartment complex and back through the parking lot towards. The quickest way to Namjoon’s cottage was the woods, it was in between your apartment and the campus. A sense of apprehension rose in your throat but was quickly slammed down by the anxiety of Namjoon’s status. Swallowing your fear, you pushed forward, steps turning into large steeds until you were running through the woods, towards him, towards Namjoon.

Jin was waiting for you outside the cottage, as you heaved with deep breaths. “Where is he?” You shoved past Jin, pushing your way into the house. The entryway was consumed in darkness, the other boys nowhere in sight.  

Jin grabbed your hand. stopping you from running up the stairs to look for him. “We can’t calm down his heat, I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Heat? What’s going on? If it’s so serious, why haven’t you called the ambulance?” You were still running from the adrenaline of your run, heavy gasps between each of your words. From upstairs you could hear a heavy thud.

“Stop, listen to me please.” He begged. “Fuck, there’s things Namjoon was supposed to tell you, but this wasn’t meant to happen so quickly. But he’s in so much pain and the boys and I can’t take it anymore. We need your help.”

“Oppa, you’re really scaring me right now.” You never called him by the honorific before, being a foreigner it didn’t feel right for you to use it. It slipped out. From upstairs, a loud shout of anger or pain thrashed through the house. It was unmistakably Namjoon.

“Oh my god.” You ran towards the stairs, before Jin’s arms clamped against your waist, pulling you away. “Let go! He might be hurt!”

“You need to let me explain! He’ll do something he’ll regret. Just listen to me!” The pit in your stomach pulsed in pain and you hunched over, dread filling you. You fell limp in Jin’s arms as he pulled you away from the stairs.

“We… we’re not what you think we are. Do you remember the day that Namjoon found you in the woods a month ago?”

“Why does that have anything to do-”

“It has everything to do with it, Y/N!” Jin's hands fell to his side as he released you. “What did you see, what did you actually see?”

“Two wolves attacked me.”

“Think clearer, Y/N. What happened?”

You didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to think about what had happened. Your thoughts were of Namjoon sick, in pain.

“Y/N come on, I know you remember. You know.”

“There was this wolf,” You took a deep breath, hands clenched together. “It attacked me and then another wolf came and I passed out.”

“What did that wolf look like? Y/N, come on.”

“It was huge.” You whispered. “Twice my size. And it had this… this obsidian fur, sleek and thick.” You voice choked in your throat, mind coming to a realisation. “It… it attacked the other wolf. I remember, it, it saved me.”

“That’s right. He saved you. He… protects you, wants you safe.” You were heaving, taking in huge gasps of air.

“You said ‘he’. Why would you say ‘he’?”

“You’re a smart girl, Y/N. How did Namjoon find you when you were so far along the path? Why does he walk you home after your shift?”

Your thoughts betrayed your common sense. Why did he know it was wolves who attacked me when you didn’t mention it to him at all?

“This isn’t possible Jin, this isn’t… this isn’t real!”

“Y/N please, you know it is. You’ve heard the rumours, the legends.” Werewolf, the voice inside of you whispered. He’s the wolf that saved you.

You closed your eyes, picking at your nails. “Where’s Namjoon? What’s heat?”

“A heat is the time when wolves’ bodies are forced into a mating state, once a year in the winter, male unmated wolves go through the cycle for a few days whereas female wolves go through it every month, like a period, except the symptoms mean that they have an unrelenting desire to mate and conceive. It’s a body’s natural system of ensuring reproduction. Because of this, if a wolf meets their mate, then they’re forced into heat.”

“So what, he’s horny? That’s what’s making him sick?” Your disbelief was palpable.

“It’s more than that Y/N. Namjoon’s heat came out of nowhere, it’s been induced. It’s the middle of spring and his heat, it’s too strong. He won’t, can’t, eat or drink anything. This isn’t something that’ll go away because it’s been building up since he saved you in the woods.”

Your mind felt heavy from the revelation. You wanted to run away. But the thought of Namjoon in pain made your insides physically hurt. “What- what do I do? How can I help?”

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. The younger boys have left the house because it’s too hard for them to be surrounded by the pheromones, Yoongi and Hoseok have gone with them to keep them safe. I’ve stayed back to help Joon, but since Taehyung came home after dropping you off he’s refused to eat or drink anything. You don’t have to do much Y/N, just try and get him to drink some water? Please. That’s all I’m asking you. If he does anything or makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’m here. I won’t let him hurt you. You can walk out now if you want to, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what else to do to help him.”

Your teeth sunk down in anxiety, “I just need to get him to drink water, right? Stay with him until his body flushes the heat out of his system?”

Jin nodded in understanding. “That’s all you have to do.”

“Is he in his room?” You ask, turning towards the stairs. Jin followed you this time, pushing you up the stairs. “Yes, he hasn’t moved since last Thursday. Namjoon will kill me when he realises I’ve dragged you into this but I don’t know what else to do.”

Taking a heavy breath, your hands wrapped around the doorknob of Namjoon’s bedroom. “It’ll be best if I didn't come in with you. He’s… well, let’s just say the scent of you on Taehyung made things a lot worse.”

Jin’s hand rested on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze of encouragement. “Call if you need me, I’ll be right outside.”

Nodding, you took another deep breath, before pushing the door wide open.

Nothing could really prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Ropes constrained his hands to the headboard, and his body was laden with glistening sweat, bare to your eyes. A thin silk blanket covered his lower half, but his body convulsed within itself, twisting around in its’ sheets. He was fucked out. Gone was your sweet, dimpled Namjoon.

In his place was a beast. His dark hair was matted against his forehead, as his face squeezed in pain. He was trembling, perspiration slipping in beads of crystallized sweat.

“Namjoon.” You gasped out.

He froze, body turning taut. You rushed to his side, fingers reaching out before you stopped yourself from touching him. “Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Should I go get Jin?”

An earth-shattering growl ripped through his mouth, so deep it ran through your body in electric waves. “Don’t say his name.” He spewed between clenched teeth. “Fuck, you smell like him. Why do you smell like him?” The animosity in his voice surprised you.

“Namjoon.” He shook his head heavily at the sound of your voice, closing his eyes as he listened to your voice. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.”

Your fingers raised up to his forehead on your own accord, brushing away his tangled hair so you could look into his eyes. He met your gaze with such burning emotion, you felt the heat rise up in your stomach. “Your burning up. Let me help me.”

Rushing to his bathroom, you found a small washcloth, and rinsing it under the tap you returned as quick as you could. Namjoon hadn’t moved, eyes following your every movement. Hesitantly, you began to wipe away his sweat. Namjoon almost moaned at the contact. “Y/N, stop. I might hurt you.”

“Shut the fuck up Namjoon.” You glared at him. “You’ve ignored me for a whole fucking week because you're horny? Why didn’t you just get it out of your system instead of letting it get to this stage?”

Namjoon’s face took on a pallid sheen. “What did Jin tell you?”

You bit your lip, watching as Namjoon’s eyes followed the sink of your teeth into your delectable muscles. You saw the hunger in his eyes, blood rushing to your cheeks. “I know it was you. The wolf that saved me. You’re not going to hurt me Namjoon.”

“Y/N.” His voice had turned to a whimper. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I-I’m sorry.”

You smiled at him. “You’re way too sweet for your own good, Joonie.” Your hands raised to carry on wiping his body, moving from patting his forehead to swiping at the thick expanse of his neck and collarbone.

“Fuck, love, please stop.” He groaned.

“What is it, where does it hurt?” The endearment did not escape your notice. Your heart thudded against your chest.

He shook his head. “You need to go before I do something I regret.” His eyes were wild, dark with want, with need.

“I want to help you, Joon. Please, I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“You don’t you get it! There’s a reason I’m tied up! You’ve made me want you so badly, you’d always wear these fucking short dresses around me that would be so easy for me to bunch them up and take you against the shelves. God, I can smell you sometimes when you’ve pleasured yourself, your cum smells so delicious, I bet you’d taste so sweet. Your voice would sound like music when I’d sink my teeth in that delectable neck of yours, and I’d fill you to the brim until your full of my cum. You’re perfect for me, made for me, and I for you. I want you. I need you”

Your breath caught in your throat, deep, hot-blooded pleasure flooding through you at Namjoon’s dark voice. Your thighs clung together, but not before Namjoon let out a long wail of desire.

“Fuck Y/N! I can smell you, fuck baby you smell so sweet.” He threw his head back against the headboard, a deep groan rumbling out of his throat. “Love, you need to leave now, or else I’ll lose control. Please.”

“Namjoon, look at me.” You pushed yourself so you were straddling his legs, arms on either side of his torso as you looked up, determination flooding you. “I am not leaving you. It hurts to see you like this, it hurts to see you in pain. Let me help you.” You repeated. You raise your hand to the sides of his face, bum settling on the tops of his thigh. You could feel him freezing beneath you, eyes turned to stare into your own.

“I like you.” You confessed. “I really, really like you.”

With a loud cry, lips collided with yours in a crash of lust, teeth digging into your bottom lip to pull you forward, closer to him. He swallowed the moan that broke through your throat, body shifting forward in the restraints.

“Fuck, Joon.” You gasped out for breath. Namjoon reached forward for more of you, lips running down the expanse of your neck. You whimpered as his teeth sunk in small bites, tongue slipping out to lap at the bruise.

“More,” He groaned. “I need more.” His hands pulled at the ropes restraining him in anger, power radiating him as he growled. “Love, undo them.”

Hands shaking, you reached for the knots, tugging to try and untie them. “Shit, who tied these ropes?” No matter how much you twisted and pulled at them, they wouldn’t undo. It didn’t help that Namjoon had returned to pressing fevered kisses along your collarbone, making your hands tremble. “I can’t get them undone, Namjoon. What do I do?”

“Take off your shirt.” Just as you reached down to pull off your nightshirt, you heard the telltale sound of footsteps running down the stairs and the front door slamming shut.

“Was that Jin?” You realised your mistake once you gazed into Namjoon’s dark, hooded eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you not to say his name, baby?”

Your throat seemed to close at the dominance in his tone. In a bid to appease his jealousy, you hurriedly pulled off your nightshirt.

He groaned at the sight, forgetting your slip as of now. In your haste to reach Namjoon’s house, you had forgotten to put on a bra. You bare breasts were exposed to Namjoon’s lustful eyes. He whined out, nudging you forward with his legs. You charged forward, legs coming up to wrap around his waist as he pulled himself into a sitting position. A moan ripped through you as your chest came in contact with his, the contact setting your skin alight with electricity.

You hips jerked, coming into contact with something that hard and thick. Pleasure jolted your lower regions, and Namjoon’s head bumped forward, foreheads touching. His lips puckered around your breast, tongue rolling around one of your buds as you let out a long cry of his name.

“Namjoon, please.” Your hips began to move in a steady motion, picking up in speed as licks of heat flashed into you. “Give me more.”

“Fuck, baby. If you keep doing that, I won’t last.” His teeth sunk down, your mind turning white as hot pleasure filled you. Your hands ran up the back of his neck, looking for anything to keep you up before you fingers gripped the soft grains of his dark hair tightly. You took your time travelling down his back, loving the way his mouth parted around your breast in heavy whimpers at your hands’ ministrations, before the reached forward, slipping down to come in contact with his clothed member. His loud moan was deep and husky, head rearing away from your breast as his eyes closed.

You gripped him tighter, hands reaching forward for more, more, more.

“What do I do Namjoon?” You began to press shy kisses down his collarbone. “Tell me what to do.”

“Shit, baby.” His gravelly voice echoed across the room. “I need to fill you up.”

You groaned at his heavy words, hands tightening around his thick length. “Take off your shorts.” You raised yourself up, hands leaving his member to pull down your sleeping shorts and underwear in one swift moment.

“That’s it, baby. Leave yourself bare to my eyes only.” His words were making your headlight, filled with only thoughts of his kisses. You sank back down on his member in one strong thrust. Your high cry made harmony with his raspy groan, as your hips moved together in synchronised thrusts.  

His thick lips were back on your neck as your hands moved back to his boxer, slipping them as low as you could reach. Your hands came in contact with his bare member and you let out another loud wail as you pulled it out. It was thicker than you expected, and you couldn’t help your hands from gripping on the top a bit too tightly.

Namjoon winced, lips parting in short gasps against the soft tract of your neck. “Baby, I can’t take it anymore.” You nodded, body thrumming with need.

Thighs slick with arousal, you slowly pushed yourself back down into Namjoon’s lap. You could feel the heat of his head slipping into you, warmth gripping your body as you it enveloped you. Namjoon threw his head back in a deafening howl, an animalistic sound that reminded you of the beast inside of him. The pit in your stomach clenched, but instead of the usual emptiness, it began to pulse with ecstasy as Namjoon pushed up inside you.

Your hands left his hips, reaching up to his shoulders as you gripped them in your vice. “Namjoon, more, more,”  

At the sound of your voice, Namjoon snapped forward with such ferocity you felt your body jolt up. A feral growl left his lips as he pumped up into you, his arms tensing by its restrained. With a powerful wrench, a loud crack resonated around the room as the headboard gave a feeble cry as Namjoon’s hands ripped from his constraints.

Namjoon’s touch sent you spiralling. It was like another dimension was added, another layer of pleasure bleeding into you. His hands were rough and harsh, gripping and pulling as they seized your hips to pull you even closer. You were enthralled, absorbed in the creature in front of you and the control he had over your body. His hands slipped down your waist to clasp your ass, kneading them with his long fingers to heighten the elation that ran through your body. Your hands gripped his shoulders, reaching around to grasp his neck tightly as he thrust deeper.  

“Namjoon,” You cried out, overwhelmed by his scent, his touch. He was all you could see, all you could feel. You didn’t think you could last longer, couldn’t feel any more full than when he ground into you. He was so thick, so warm. “I want all of you inside me, all of it.”

You could feel your ecstasy rising, a euphoric paradise between your two souls. “I’m going to fill you so good, love. You’ll look so beautiful rounded with my seed that’ll grow into my pups, my beautiful mate. My love.”

“You are mine and I am yours.” With a commanding snarl, his teeth sunk into your fragile, human neck. You exploded with a cry, your pit filling with Namjoon’s essence, brimful of his love. He whispered sweet nothings into your ears and urging you further and further into your pleasure. Your whimpers fuelled him, one of his hands came to grip your leg that was wrapped around his waist, lifting it higher and hitting inside you deeper and deeper.    

He reached his high when you began to murmur his name over and over again, drilling into you to prolong his bliss. Snapping forward, he pulled your lips to his in a harsh kiss, tongue slipping past to smother you in love. He began to still at your whines, your head lulling into the crook of his neck in exhaustion. He fell backwards lethargically, hands raising from your hips to the small of your back.

With a sweaty kiss to your forehead, he started to lap at the bite on your neck. You legs fell to his side, too weak to hold on as he slipped out of you. His hands ran up the sides of your body, before resting on either side of your neck as he raised his gaze to yours. Cedar eyes held your gaze with such warmth you didn’t notice as he slipped out of you, your combined love escaping your grasp to cover the banks of your thighs.

“I like you too.” Your Namjoon had returned, dimpled smile and all as he grinned down up at you. “I-I think I might love you.”

You felt cherry-blossom blush shuffle across the apples of your cheeks. A soft laugh left his lips as he leaned down, full lips engulfing yours in a sweet kiss.

You hummed in response, blossoming in the aftercare of his confession. He twisted you around so you lay on his side, a petty frown marring his face as he watched the rest of his cum leave your body. Your fingers reached up to trace his lips, a giggle rumbling through your body and the sudden switch in the atmosphere. You pulled your arms around his neck to try and pull him down, wanting to cuddle longer.

“Let me take care of you now.” He kissed the soft skin underneath your jaw, as you pouted up at him. He beamed down at you, before reaching around for the discarded washcloth and began to clean between your legs. He kissed your cheek in apology when you squirmed at the oversensitivity, before throwing the washcloth to the ground and pulling you into his chest.

You legs entwined with him as you rested your head in the safety of his neck. “So, what does this mean? Between us?”

His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if scared you would disappear. “You’re my mate, I knew when I saved you in the forest. But you have a choice. I would never force you into something you didn’t have a choice in.”

Your hands raised to reach the soft patter of his heartbeat, curling closer to his body. “I want to try, with you. I think I’ve liked you ever since I woke up in your bed.” You grinned cheekily up at him at the insinuation. His hand came down to swipe your bare bottom, and you yelped at the sensation.

His dimpled smile set your heart on fire. “I want to try too. Thank you, for saving me.”  

You laughed at him. “We saved each other, I guess.”

***

The morning came with the feeling of warmth pooling between your legs. With a sleepy moan, you felt the graze of warm sunlight shuffle around your body as you roused from your heavy slumber. A pleasant brush pushing your thighs slowly apart woke you to what was going on.

“Namjoon,” You gasped out, voice husky from sleep. He was hidden from your sight, underneath the covers of the bed. You could feel him whimper against your legs, groans of pleasure as your voice rumbled through his body. Soft kisses were pressed against your inner thighs, and despite the sleep-induced haze you were suffering, your body responded on its own by spreading your legs open wider.

“Joon,” You called out his name again when you felt the warmth of his breath reach higher to your sensitive parts.

Your hands slipped under the sheets, gripping his thick hair as he kissed when you so desperately needed him to kiss. His tongue slipped out as a soft moan left your lips before he dived in with such resolute need you felt the tips of your toes curl with pleasure. Your back arched forward, wincing as the residue of last night’s events hit your strained body. The combination of the pain and pleasure heightened the feeling of Namjoon between your legs, his hands coming up to cup your behind and pull your forward, deeper into his sinful mouth. A finger came to join his wicked tongue, flooding you with such pleasure you bounded up, a low moan rushing out of your mouth.

Euphoria flooded you as you came undone on his tongue within seconds, hands gripping his hair to pull him closer as he lapped you up. With one last drink, you felt him pull away as you tapped his chin, stabs of oversensitivity pinching you.

Hands still gripping his hair, you pulled away the blanket to see him rested on the tops of your thighs, lips glistening with your sweet essence. The sight would forever be ingrained in your mind. He grinned up at you, tongue sweeping out to lick his lips. Your body was flushed, red from his caresses.

Your hands rested on his head, running through his soft hair as you tried to calm your breathing. “What was that for?”

He pushed himself up, placing soft kisses along the stretch of your stomach, rising up between the valley of your breasts to reach his mark. “Because I love you.”

You felt yourself break out into a content smile, the sound of his confession music to your ears. As the sun filtered through his bedroom, the need to keep that heavenly smile on his face filled you.

Your hands reached the nape of his neck, as your left leg latched around his waist. You hauled him down, hands coming up to grip his shoulders as you pulled him down in a fervent kiss. He groaned out as you bit down on his lips, hands reaching out to pull you closer.

Reaching down, you felt his length harden in your hand as you pumped him closer, his soft rapturous groans urging you on. When he slipped into you, you warmed in his hold, in his love.

Hours later, as he two of you lay in each other’s embrace, his hand lay entwined with yours. Your body caved around his galaxy-heavy kisses, his storm-like hold. In the emptiness of your body, he filled it with his love.

[tangledcassandra]

Cassandra is Saporian: An Analysis

I’ve seen this theory tossed around a bit, but I think we need to take a good and serious look at it from all angles.

First off, what would this add to the plot?

Well, we know Saporia was formerly an enemy of Corona, until the two united when their leaders fell in love. Shortly after, the Separatists of Saporia were formed, a splinter group dedicated to taking back Corona for Saporia.

So, making Cassandra Saporian would give her a good reason to take the Moonstone, using it as the means to take back Corona for her ancestors.

Has that always been her true goal? No, absolutely not, and that’s not the focus of this post. But I will come back around to her motives for taking the stone. Hang on.

The ONLY time Saporia is mentioned in the show is in “Under Wraps”, which, as you may recall, is a Cassandra heavy episode. While that could be a very loose hint at her being Saporian, I think we’re missing the larger piece of foreshadowing that is presented. Something that Andrew tosses out right before his defeat.

"Oh, Cassandra. Saporia will rise again, and we'll have you to thank for it."

And sure, that seems like an empty threat on Andrew’s part. But the writers of the show have known for a long time what was being planned for the end of season 2 and the upcoming season 3. When you consider that, it’d be easy to drop in a forgettable line for a (much) later reveal.

But, there’s more.

The Saporian crest on Andrew’s necklace is used as the catalyst for Xavier to reveal information about the Separatists of Saporia. Two reasons why this is significant.

Why go through all the trouble of elaborating on Saporia and its history for one episode? Why focus so heavily on the backstory of a character that only appears once? Sure, the lore at the beginning of the episode was relevant for explaining the Day of Hearts holiday. But the show took it even further, not only detailing who the Separatists of Saporia are, but ALSO revealing their crest. Why was ALL of that so important for a single episode?

Except...

We see the crest a second time, 27 episodes later.

The potion book Cassandra reads from in “Rapunzel: Day One”. Now, the RTA Crew could have chosen to put anything, or nothing, on the cover of that book. But they specifically chose the Separatists of Saporia emblem. Why?

Well, I guess we can assume this stuff belonged to the Separatists, or some traveling salesman/magician (whoever the cart formerly belonged to) came by it through unknown means.

And yet, it found its way into Cassandra’s hands.

Now, this detail is completely trivial, and easy to miss, just as Andrew’s line could easily be forgotten. But it does ever so subtly add another point connecting Cassandra to Saporia.

But what else do we know about Cassandra?

We know she’s adopted.

Cassandra and Eugene had a brief bonding moment about being orphans in “Cassandra v. Eugene”. Now, that could have just been a throwaway moment, a nice ‘something in common’ between the two of them. But Cassandra could have EASILY been Captain’s biological daughter. I mean, why not? Why did that happen to be the thing they had in common? And why did Cassandra shut down when Eugene asked if she ever wondered what her parents were like?

Maybe she already knows.

But, that’s completely irrelevant.

Cassandra was raised in Corona, she considers herself a citizen of Corona, and she’s been striving her entire life to succeed her father as Captain of the Guard of Corona. She’s loyal to the kingdom and especially to Rapunzel, regardless of whether or not she knows she’s Saporian. And it wouldn’t even matter to Rapunzel, Eugene, or anyone else. On the off chance she knows, she’s been shown to literally not care at all based on the fact that it’s never come up in conversation.

So again, whether or not she knows, it’s irrelevant to this theory.

More importantly, for us, the audience, we don’t know where Cassandra came from. We don’t know her parents or heritage. It’s a small loose end the show has not yet touched on. And maybe it wouldn’t even be important, if we hadn’t just learned about Eugene’s origin and parentage in “Destinies Collide”.

Now, Cassandra is the only one of the main three whose background is still shrouded in so much mystery. She’s guarded, she doesn’t talk about her feelings, and she knows Rapunzel and Eugene BOTH can’t keep secrets. Rapunzel is a “sharer”, and Eugene just has a big mouth in general.

So, getting back on track. We actually have 3 pretty solid pieces of foreshadowing evidence for Cassandra being born into the Separatists of Saporia. She’s an orphan, Andrew’s quote, the crest popping up again in her hands. All very subtle, and yet, all connected. Very interesting.

Okay, the Moonstone. I said we’d come back to that.

Cassandra is Saporian: An Analysis: Part 2

The door.

We all know this is going to be relevant to Season 3 in some way, but just like Cassandra’s past, what she saw in there has been withdrawn from the audience. For now. We can almost certainly say whatever she saw or experienced convinced her to take the Moonstone, or at least, planted a seed to get her thinking about it.

“I believe everybody's got a destiny.“

Now, this is funny, because we really haven’t heard Cassandra talk about destiny a whole lot during the series. She’s been pretty adamant that she is on this journey to help Rapunzel fulfill her destiny. But here, she says, “All in the name of fulfilling destiny,” and then goes on to elaborate with the quote above. This whole journey she’s put a lot of emphasis on this being Rapunzel’s destiny, but here, she kind of leaves that out. Kind of leaves it more open and vague and a little bit ominous.

Let’s roll back to right after the door closes on Cassandra and this imagery of Zhan Tiri is shown. Maybe it’s nothing, or maybe, more likely, it’s something!

Now, we’re really going to stretch into theory territory, but it’s all going to tie together. Let’s talk about what could have been behind that door!

What if Zhan Tiri convinced Cassandra that her destiny was to bring about the rise of Saporia once again? Think about it. Cassandra has consistently been overlooked in Corona. She wants nothing more than to be on the guard, and she’s willing to earn her place the same as anyone else. If you recall, Eugene managed to pass the guard test in a few days. Cassandra, on the other hand, has been training since she was 6 years old, and her father still won’t allow her to join. Captain is not overprotective by any stretch of the imagination; there is literally no good reason Cassandra shouldn’t be on the guard. (Other than the fact that she’s a woman.)

Not only that, but her friends have shown very little appreciation for all the times she’s saved their lives. She is so underappreciated, it wouldn’t be difficult to convince her to turn on them. (Except for Cassandra’s undying loyalty to Rapunzel.) Plus, with Cassandra feeling less like Rapunzel’s best friend and more like a servant to the princess, she’s not doing so great. Rapunzel said in the past (multiple times) that she trusted Cassandra, and yet, as of late, she hasn’t shown that to still be true. Cassandra is in a vulnerable state, ripe for Zhan Tiri to take hold.

The connection to Saporia? A very convenient way to tip the unsteady emotional iceberg of Cassandra’s heart.

Wait, wait, wait. Didn’t I already say any connection Cassandra had to Saporia wasn’t important to her?

Right, that’s absolutely correct. It’s not important to her, at all. But it IS important to the story. It IS important as a plot device.

Zhan Tiri is an extremely powerful force that has been constantly looming over the heads of our heroes throughout most of the series, popping up every now and again to remind us, oh yeah, there’s a big bad coming. The final boss will be in town shortly, even though our heroes have barely been able to hold their own against his minions. Are they ready to face the ultimate evil? Haha, no.

Okay, we’re in the home stretch of this theory.

Cassandra being Saporian gives Zhan Tiri an in. A wedge, to drive between Cassandra and her friends and convince her that taking the Moonstone is her destiny. To get revenge on everyone who has treated her badly. I mean, that’d be great, wouldn’t it?

Not for Cassandra.

Cassandra, who loves Rapunzel. Cassandra, who, MULTIPLE TIMES in not just the series, but in the final episode of season 2, saved Rapunzel’s life. She grabbed Rapunzel when the gondola was falling. She pushed Rapunzel out of the way of a flying ax. She helped defend Rapunzel from the ghosts. Even after everything that happened on their journey, making sure Rapunzel is safe has CONSISTENTLY been Cassandra’s TOP priority.

But you see, Cassandra wants Zhan Tiri to believe she’s on his side. She has all the right motives for taking the Moonstone, so she could easily convince him that her actions are genuine. She wants to destroy him once and for all. But, until he revealed that she could take the Moonstone and use its power, she didn’t have the means. Of course, Cassandra needs Zhan Tiri (and the audience!) to believe that she has betrayed her friends. She needs him to trust her. She needs him to let her get close to him.

So why not tell her friends her plan? Why not let Rapunzel know? First off, nothing would convince Rapunzel to let anyone else take that risk for her. No one else would be allowed to bear her burden. Remember the foreshadowing that touching the Moonstone might obliterate Rapunzel?

“Freebird“, Rapunzel: “These rocks are my destiny, and that's terrifying. What if they lead to somewhere I'm never supposed to come back from?“

“Destinies Collide“, Adira: “While I'm certain bringing the Sundrop to the Moonstone will neutralize its threat, I'm not sure what will happen to you.“

Comforting!

Secondly, I must repeat, Rapunzel and Eugene BOTH can’t keep secrets. Rapunzel is a “sharer”, and Eugene just has a big mouth in general. There’s NO WAY Cassandra could let them in on any kind of plan to take the Moonstone. No way she could let them know she planned to risk her own safety to defeat Zhan Tiri. No way she could convince them to trust her to do this.

Too long, didn’t read: Cassandra being Saporian gives Zhan Tiri an opportunity to divide our heroes by convincing Cassandra to grab the Moonstone so that she has the power to take back Corona in the name of Saporia.

Lastly, keep in mind that Cassandra never actually says what her destiny is.

“I'm fulfilling my destiny!“

Okay, great. And that is?... Is it betraying her friends? Preventing the Sundrop and Moonstone from uniting? Opening the portal for Zhan Tiri? Taking back Corona for Saporia? Grabbing the Moonstone so it doesn't destroy Rapunzel? We literally don't know.

And I think that’s great.

Cassandra’s actions at the end of season 2 left us with a beautiful cliffhanger, hungry for more. It left us with questions, concerns, and a slew of ideas about what could be coming next. It left us with a few final parting words that ultimately have us stunned and bewildered.

But let’s get one thing straight. Cassandra isn’t. Cassandra has not betrayed her friends. Not permanently, anyway. It may seem like that now, but if you’ve been keeping up with the series, you know how much she cares about Rapunzel. You’ve seen that look in her eyes. How soft she gets when Rapunzel smiles at her. You know that she’d give her life in place of Rapunzel’s. Whatever Cassandra is doing, whatever she’s planning, is for the greater good. She’s not evil. Never has been. Never will be.

So have a little faith. Not just in Cassandra. But in the hardworking creatives who put their hearts and souls into telling this story. Who have set up clues throughout the series to keep us guessing and make the show interesting. Cassandra is a main character, a main protagonist, even, who has had more screen time than Rapunzel’s own love interest. Our girl’s not evil. She just has yet-to-be-revealed plans.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Twenty Two: Visibility

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twenty Two: Visibility

Note: Sorry if the pace has been too slow in this story. I feel like Soliloquy might have been more exciting to read, especially since we just made it to chapter 22. But don’t worry, that’s all about to change very soon. Thanks for sticking with me! Between Visions of V and Special Edition, this is a wild time to be writing for the community. I’ve never been so overwhelmed by the lore. I love it!

(-~-)

The sun approached the edge of the horizon, the sky casting a shadow of vibrant oranges and blues as it traveled over the treetops. The silhouettes of the massive trees that blocked out the evening wind danced in the dim but vibrant light as they stood tall and proud, acting as sentinels in the approaching night. And around the northern bank of the large pond they had claimed as their own stood V, his arms wrapped around himself as he leaned against a nearby tree in silence.

Something was not right about this place.

From the moment they had arrived, it had been too quiet. The path leading to the location seemed to grow more silent with every step they took, and there was no way to properly explain that kind of phenomenon aside from “deeply disturbing” and “possibly problematic”. Against his general sense of self preservation, the young summoner had written it off as nerves at first, assuming that the impenetrable silence was due to the fact that they were venturing further and further from the city and, as such, were exposed to less and less background ambiance as a result. V had spent his fair share of days in the wilderness in the past, after all. But the longer they had stayed here and spent the day enjoying the wonders of the forest, the more V felt an ever present need to leave. It was as though something had invaded his subconscious and lodged itself between whatever receptors controlled rational thought and suppressed anxiety. 

He found it profoundly difficult to focus, and that feeling of fogginess didn’t dissipate as the day carried on. In fact, it intensified to an incredible degree until a slight haze fell over him. And while he was still alert and aware of his surroundings, he couldn’t help but feel as though his head was under water. At times, his hearing seemed muffled or his sight blurred, but then returned to its normal state just as quickly as it had gone. It was as inconvenient as it was troublesome, and it had progressed to the point where V was actually starting to question what could possibly be causing such a phenomenon. 

From what he could tell, everything around him was fine besides him. Perhaps the group had collectively decided that they were just going to ignore whatever this was in favor of enjoying the scenery and didn’t know it because everyone was concealing their true motivations so well? It wouldn’t really surprise him, all things considered. He didn’t blame anyone present for desiring a little bit of normality. But it was nearly impossible to tell if that was the case. And if so, he was going to have to be the killjoy of the group once again. Thankfully Kyrie and the children had left an hour or so ago.

As V stood thinking, Griffon returned from his little adventure. The while haired summoner had tasked his loyal avian companion with scouting out the surrounding area to see if he could locate the source of the issue, he’d saddled himself with the responsibility of trying to figure out whether or not the issue he was experiencing was caused by internal or external forces. V hadn’t exactly had the easiest time since his return from the waiting room of the afterlife and, as an extension of that, he’d been feeling numerous different variations of sensory overload in random intervals ever since.Trying to place what was going on with him without anything to work off of was becoming more and more complicated to do alone, but he didn’t exactly have anyone to go to with questions of that nature. Well, at least not anyone he expected to actually answer them.

“Well, did you find anything?” V said quietly but clearly, not quite whispering as Griffon fluttered to a landing on top of the low hanging tree branch he was standing beneath. Shadow was only a few yards away, now the lucky recipient of Patty’s attention. The only thing that the large demonic house cat enjoyed more than destroying their opponents was receiving head scratches, and Patty’s were high quality to say the least. V felt no need to interrupt their fun unless he required her assistance, and at the moment, he was fine.

Griffon fluffed himself up and did something close to a shiver, clearly not thrilled with the concept of whatever he was about to say. The large bird looked like he wanted to puke as he shook his head from side to side, a metaphorical bad taste in his mouth. V craned his neck to one side, his brow furrowing. Oh, this couldn’t be could, could it?

“Oh boy, did I. You're not going to like this, V,” Griffon said as he hopped down off of the branch and onto V’s outstretched arm. As he spoke, he shuffled up closed to his shoulder, allowing the young summoner to lower the majority of his arm. “So get this. I found a cave! Well, it’s not exactly a cave. It’s more of an area with rocks all around it that you have to go into a cave to get into, but you get the jist of it, right?”

V nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure what that had to do with anything, but he decided to let his avian friend finish his little little story before passing any sort of final judgement. Sometimes the fluffy, statically charged bird just rambled a little bit before he got to the point, but the information he provided was generally very helpful. “What is it about this place that set off alarm bells for you? Is there light coming from it?”

Griffon nodded eagerly. If V wasn’t mostly sure that his loyal companion couldn’t make facial expressions, he would have sworn that he saw an almost uncomfortable look cross his face. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg, pall. There has to be at least a dozen people up there, and they are all over the place. That whole operation reeks of demonic power, and it’s just like what you were telling me about before I went to check it out.” Griffon’s tone changed dramatically as he leaned in to look at V. His eyes and tone of voice seemed to darken slightly, an act that both repelled and drew in the young Descendant of Sparda.” Mark my words, V... they’re planning something, and it’s not good. I think whatever is going on with you might be their doing. Like some sort of spell or something that’s supposed to keep people from going over there. I don’t know a whole bunch about magic, but I’m getting a pretty bad vibe from them. I’d stay clear of that whole place if I were you. It’s bad news.”

V seemed to consider Griffon’s words for a moment before looking across the space between himself and the rest of the group. After Nero and Kyrie had spent a few hours away from the rest of the group, they had made the trek to regroup with the rest of them and brought the children along. Dante and Vergil had arrived shortly after, the older of the two seemingly just as disinterested with hiking through the woods as he was with dealing with anything else negative for the remainder of the trip. Much like V, he’d spent most of the day keeping to himself and reading, though V couldn’t help but wonder if he’d noticed the strange occurrences that were plaguing the woods as well. One could only imagine that spending an extended amount of time in the underworld made someone sensitive to such things.

As he allowed himself to consider this possibility for a moment, a familiar face approached him. Nero stretched slightly as he did so, hours of sitting and playing with the children had clearly made him a little stiff. V nodded at his approach, signaling him to come a little closer. The shorter haired man gave him a curious look, but then glanced around himself before doing as his older brother wished and joining him.

“Hey, V. Something going on?” Nero said as he crossed the distance between them. Thankfully he hadn’t felt the need to shout this at him from near the water, or this entire situation might have been a little uncomfortable.

“Possibly.” V said, reaching up to scratch the underside of Griffon’s closest wing. This bird seemed to appreciate the gesture as he shivered in delight. For whatever reason, it was always a trial by fire for him to reach that spot without dislocating his neck in the process.” Griffon may have found something further into the woods. He has reason to believe that there might be something… unsavory going on there. Apparently the place radiates excessive amounts of demonic energy.”

“Radiates” is an understatement,” Griffon said, cutting into the conversation between his efforts to preen himself,” That place is a goddamn beacon for evil shit. I swear it’s a Hellgate or something, but I can’t be sure. But whatever those folks are doing up there can’t be good. If you want my advice-”

“Nope, not really. I think I’m good.” Nero said as he gestured towards the large blue bird with a nod, casually signaling for him to halt his machinations. That was too many words for him, and he was sure that V could give him the cliff notes version later on.” Let me guess, you wanna check it out, don’t you? And you want me to tag along.”

The older of the two paused for a moment before nodding slowly. “I feel almost compelled to do so. Something about this doesn’t sit right with me. The last time people gathered in the middle of the woods like this and I was in the area… well…” V trailed off towards the end of the conversation, sparing a downward glance towards his leg. Nero followed his gaze, a slightly alarmed look on his face. Was that how…

“Oh. Wait, so you weren’t born like that or something? I figured you’d always been like this.” Nero questioned, careful as to how he phrased his statement. He had no intention of insulting V with his question, but he had the feeling that his older brother wouldn’t tell him if he had done so anyway. That was simply the way he was. In fact, Nero was slightly surprised that he’d reached out to him about this in the first place. He seemed a little out of his element.

“... We can discuss that in greater detail once we return. Are you unarmed?” V said as he spared a glance towards the other six people that were still with them. Lady and Trish seemed to be talking about something, and Vergil hadn't budged from his spot facing away from them towards the pond. Whatever he was reading had caught his attention and kept it. Dante was eating part of a pizza that they had obtained earlier in the day at the behest of the children. And Patty… Well, she was still petting Shadow. Although she had progressed past head scratches and gone straight to belly rubs at this point, much to the bemusement and pleasure of the large feline. V subconsciously noted that he’d never seen Shadow lay on her back and let someone touch her there, and he was slightly confused as to why he’d never had the opportunity to experience this for himself. He would have to rectify that as soon as possible.

Nero shook his head and pointed towards the blanked he’d brought to the little campsite earlier when he’d arrived with Kyrie. “I don’t go into the woods without backup. Last time that happened, I got scratched by some stupid demon and grew a demonic arm.”

V gave him an odd look, but couldn’t help but notice the irony in that statement. It seemed that neither of them were capable of venturing into the woods without running afoul of something or someone and developing life altering injuries. They had more in common than he had initially realized, and it was almost funny how similar their experiences had been in some instances despite the fact that they hadn’t known one another until almost halfway through that year. In a way, V took slight comfort in that.

“I… regret not having an opportunity to see that for myself. What a shame. Was it the same arm?” V said gesturing toward Nero’s right side. The younger of the two glanced downward to double check where he was pointing and then sighed, nodding in conformation.

“Yea, I can’t win with this arm. Hopefully nothing else happens to it. The last couple of years have been such a shitshow.” Nero glanced over towards the blanked he’d brought with them before walking over towards it, leaving V by the edge of the clearing.” Give me a second.”

V watched him go for a moment, considering their next move. Theoretically, things shouldn’t pose much of a problem. They were just going to slip away and go and check things out. Then they’d come right back. If everything went well, no one would even miss them. Dante was preoccupied along with everyone else, and if there was a possible threat, they needed to know about it.

A moment later, Nero returned with his blade in hand. He attacked it to his back and joined V under the tree, ushering for V to lead the way. With a nod, the older of the two recalled Shadow in preparation for their departure, much to Patty’s apparent distress. The two of them had been having the time of their lives together. With a dissatisfied huff, she stood up and walked over to join Dante, grabbing one of the few slices of pizza that remained and flopping down on the ground next to the devil hunter in the red coat. He seemed to welcome her company since they immediately started a conversation, an action that V couldn’t help but envy. If only he could start a conversation with people that easily.

With a final glance in Vergil’s direction, they slipped through the treeline and into the now dark forest. V scratched the top of Griffon’s head before using his thin arm to launch the fluffy blue bird in the direction of the woods. Neither of them had any idea where they were heading, so they were going to have to depend on the mouthy bird to lead them to their destination. That wasn’t a prospect that Nero was entirely comfortable with, but it was the reality of the situation. With any luck, this wouldn’t be a long trip and they would make it back before anyone missed them.

(-~-)

Silence settled over them in a heavy blanket as they headed towards their destination. The ground was damp and shifted easily under foot the closer they got to the top of the hill, a fact that neither of them particularly enjoyed since they could barely see. The forest was unreasonably dark, even when the foliage was taken into consideration. It was almost as if the woods absorbed light and pulled it out of the surrounding atmosphere, because even with demonically enhanced eyesight, Nero couldn’t see a thing. He was unsure as to how good V’s eyesight was relative to his own, but he was willing to believe that he probably agreed with him.

As if to silently concur with him on that issue, V suddenly stumbled over something and landed palms down in the dirt, groaning quietly in dissatisfaction. Nero had attempted to catch him, but he’d underestimated his reach and totally missed him, something that made him feel somewhat stupid. After a moment, he extended his hand towards V in an effort to help him back up. He fished around in the darkness for a moment before reaching up to accept the help, shaking his head in disbelief when he stood up. Judging by the way that he was standing and the slight grimace on his face, he’d clearly done something uncomfortable to his leg in the process.

“Tripping in forests and injuring my leg. Truly the story of my life.” He said with a hint of sarcastic darkness in his tone. He clearly wasn’t very pleased with what had just happened, and it showed. Nero looked him over before turning back towards the correct direction. It was very easy to become disoriented and lost in a place like this, so he felt the need to reaffirm their whereabouts.

“I thought we weren't talking about that until we got back. Changed your mind already?” Nero said as they pressed forward. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn that it had just grown even darker than before. How was something like that even possible?

V shrugged in the darkness, looking up towards the sky and then back towards the space in front of them. Griffon had indicated that if they continued to go forward, they would reach the cave he’d found shortly. The only problem was that it was further from the clearing than they had originally guessed, and the darkness severely hindered their progress. After all, how were you supposed to walk in a straight line when you couldn’t see anything in front of you? The terrain wasn’t something that they had felt the need to take into consideration when they had decided to do this. Then again, there were many things they hadn’t taken into consideration. 

A part of Nero wanted to turn back and alert the rest of the group, but didn’t. He was confident that they could handle this together, and they were not small children in need of supervision. V had his familiars back now, and although he was still somewhat weak, he hadn’t fallen victim to any dizzy spells since Magnolia had left and turned to the mainland the night after the fight at Fortuna Castle. Nero had no reason to believe that this wasn’t something they could handle.

“I was talking to myself. Nothing has changed since we-” V suddenly paused and stopped dead in his tracks. Nero drifted forward, turning to see what the problem was. An instant later, V grabbed his shoulder and held up his hand to hush any protests, nodding in the direction just ahead of them.

“V what are you-” Nero started, earning him a frustrated look from V as the older of the two pointed in the direction of something immediately to the left of them. Nero turned to find light radiating off of the nearby trees as it shined from within the cave that they now stood only a few yards from the mouth of. Three people walked into the opening, casting long shadows behind themselves that stopped just a few feet in front of the two youngest Descendants of Sparda. Judging by their familiar black outfits, they had just walked into the last place they needed to be.

These were the same cultists that had been after V in Fortuna.

And they had just walked right up to their front door.

Before either of them could process this information, the sound of a tree breaking behind them under the strain of something heavy took them by surprise. As they moved to locate the source of the sound, a vibrating hum could be heard from seemingly everywhere around them at once, immediately followed by the sound of wicked echoing laughter. Slightly alarmed, the two of them glanced around themselves in an attempt to try and locate the source of the sinister noise just as the ground beneath them began to ripple like water and the sound of a deep, hollow bell toll echoed through the surrounding area. A rapidly spinning scythe erupted from the ground between them followed by an unearthly howl as they were both knocked back across the ground in opposing directions, making impact with the trees. As quickly as they had arrived, they had been rendered a bloody mess, staggering about in an effort to try and figure out what was happening and where the attack was coming from. 

V winced slightly as he held the side of his now bleeding head, shaking it slightly in an attempt to regain focus and clarity of vision in spite of the pounding sensation that rocked his skull. Unfortunately, the blood running down the side of his head onto his face didn’t make that very easy, and neither did all the now wet hair that clung to the right side of his head. Meanwhile, Nero tried to walk off the cut he’d just received across the bottom of the side of his back, clearly as agitated as he was injured. Although his demonic powers were making short work of the injury, it still stung like hell and served as a powerful distraction from the task at hand. Neither of them were mortally injured, but the fact that they would have easily been killed in that instant if they hadn’t both moved out of the way when they did was not lost on them.

Whatever this was, they needed backup. It needed to die before it could launch a follow up attack against them. After all, there was nowhere to run to in this place. Behind them stood impenetrable darkness, and before them stood the cult that had nearly taken Magnolia and V’s lives the last time they had crossed paths. Nothing about the situation was hopeful.

Just as the large, cloaked demon attempted to fully emerge from the ground, V and Nero regrouped, rallying behind one another in an attempt to prepare themselves for another oncoming attack. If they stayed close together, they could watch each other’s back and two directions at once. Despite the fact that they were both somewhat injured and couldn’t dodge any oncoming attacks very easily, it was the only option they could employ against an enemy they could barely see.

Seconds later, a glowing black rift suddenly opened in the air a few dozen feet above them, the sickening laughter and howling of the demon returning as the bell tolled yet again. Both Nero and V drew a blank in that moment, entirely unsure as to what to do about a demon that could attack them from such an impossible position. Nero knew he couldn’t draw his gun that quickly, and Griffon would be no use against an opponent such as this, even if V could force him to manifest that quickly.

No, they were simply fucked.

As the cackling monstrosity plunged downward out of the sky towards them, spinning it’s colossal blade like a propeller composed of death, there was suddenly an eruption of light as an unseen force collided with the demon, meeting it head on and stopping it dead in it’s tracks in mid air. The scythe shattered like glass as a huge blue slash arched several meters across the space between them and cleaved the demon in two down the middle, taking the two trees behind it with it.

Nero and V watched as the vaguely familiar blue demon landed gracefully on it’s feet, sheathing its blade slowly with a ringing click before the suspension of reality around them faded and the demon, along with both trees, toppled over with a loud crash, falling into pieces around them. They were both dazed, and V was still bleeding from his skull, but altogether more alive than they would’ve been if he had not come to their rescue. Although they had not seen this form before, neither of the two young devil hunters needed to ask who their savior was. Nero had battled against it more advanced from before himself, and V recognized that kind of power anywhere. A moment later, the glowing blue demonic being that had once stood before them faded away with a cascade of light, allowing the darkness to return and leaving a familiar devil slayer in its place. A moment later, he turned to face them both.

It was Vergil.

And he did not look pleased.

(-~-)

It begins… Bring forth the angst! Boy of boy, are things about to get interesting. I hope you liked this chapter, because things are only going to get more exciting from here! See you on Friday for the next chapter and stay safe!

[dying-suffering-french-stalkers]

Katabasis Patterns in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End

Or, in which I make use of my official Classics minor (and my unofficial film nerd minor) while ignoring my French major altogether.

Howdy, everyone, and welcome to this week’s episode of Extremely On My Bullshit!  Today we’re going to talk at length about how the trip to Davy Jones’ Locker in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End borrows elements from various classical narratives containing a katabasis, or a trip to the Underworld.  This will be a slightly Tumblr-ified version of an actual paper I wrote for my Classical Antiquity On Screen final.

Shoutout to this post by @charlesdances, which allowed me to infodump about Hades/Persephone parallels in Barbossa and Elizabeth’s relationship across the trilogy, and to @aye-tortuga for requesting this longer post, which I teased at the end of the aforementioned meta.

Right then, let’s get started!  Under a cut to spare your dashes from long post made longer still by screencaps and works cited (yep, it’s that kind of meta).  For the purposes of this meta, only the first three Pirates films will be considered canon as the later sequels contradicted elements of the established lore.

I touched on this in the first paragraph, but I’ll begin by defining two words which will appear throughout this meta: katabasis and anabasis.  Katabasis and anabasis are Ancient Greek terms which refer to “that narrative . . . that portrays the hero’s descent into, and ascent from, the underworld—the journey to hell” (Holtsmark 25).  (If you want to get etymological about it, kata is down, ana is up, and baino comes from the verb meaning “to go [on foot].”)

This katabasis narrative takes place in the first act of At World’s End.  If you’ll recall, Dead Man’s Chest ended with Elizabeth chaining Jack to the Black Pearl’s mast: she knew the Kraken was only interested in Jack, so she sacrificed him to give herself and the others a chance to escape.  However, at the very end of the film, Elizabeth and the crew of the Pearl pledge to retrieve Jack from his resting place in Davy Jones’ Locker (the Underworld), and Tia Dalma offers both herself and Barbossa as guides to those “weird and haunted shores.”

So, after the cinematic fucking masterpiece that is the opening “Hoist the Colours” sequence (I also wrote a paper on that lol), we find ourselves in Singapore, where Elizabeth, Barbossa, and co. meet with the pirate lord Sao Feng in hopes of obtaining a map to the Locker.  The Singapore segment opens with Elizabeth piloting a lone craft along a murky river, evoking images of Charon with his ferryman’s pole:

As she poles the boat along, she sings a pirate tune with decidedly death-centric lyrics, tuning us in to the symbolism and themes at play: “Some men have died and some are alive / Others sail on the sea / With the keys to the cage and the Devil to pay / We lay to Fiddler’s Green.* / The bell has been raised from its watery grave / Hear its sepulchral tone . . .” (*A form of afterlife from maritime folklore)

At the end of this scene, we see something odd: Tia Dalma dressed as a blind organ grinder.

Plot-wise, this serves to divert the colonial soldiers’ attention from the pirates’ activity, but metaphorically, here she represents the blind seer Tiresias, whom Odysseus encounters when he first enters the realm of Hades (Odyssey 11.187-149).

When the pirates meet Sao Feng, the imagery starts to mix a little.  The filmmakers present Sao Feng in a somewhat Hades-esque (Hadean?) manner (steam, flames, and warm tones, with a skylight to imply subterranean depths):

However, while he is a powerful figure, he does not keep the Underworld itself (that duty falls to Jones); he merely keeps the knowledge of its entrance.  Barbossa attempts to gain this knowledge by presenting Sao Feng with a silver coin: a reminder of his duty as Pirate Lord as well as another Charon parallel.  Barbossa’s tactic does not work, but like in the previous scene, the imagery prepares viewers for the descent to come.

After getting Sao Feng’s navigational charts another way, the pirates’ journey to the underworld continues in earnest.  When Will expresses doubt about their path, Barbossa nearly quotes the Aeneid outright: “Trust me, young Master Turner: it’s not gettin’ to the Land of the Dead that’s the problem; it’s gettin’ back.”  This echoes the Cumaean Sibyl’s famous words to Aeneas: “Easy is the descent to [the Underworld]: night and day the door of gloomy Dis stands open; but to recall one’s steps and pass out to the upper air, this is the task, this the toil!” (Aeneid 6.126-129, tr. H.R. Fairclough).  Aeneas, guided by the Sibyl, passes through the mouth of a cave as part of his descent (“A deep cave there was, yawning wide and vast, of jagged rock” (Aeneid 6.237-238, cf. 6.262-263, tr. Fairclough)); likewise the pirates, guided by Barbossa and the charts, pass through a cave as they travel into stranger climes:

(Buuuut to be fair, this one is possibly just incidental or else more of a reference to Gustave Doré’s art for Rime of the Ancient Mariner rather than a reference to any specific classical text.  Doré’s artwork is used elsewhere in PotC, so it’s prolly just aesthetic.  Also caves are cool and the ultimate symbolic doorway.)

Next they come to a distant, shadowy realm with a misty sky and a sea tranquil enough to reflect starlight:

Again, this could also be incidental (and/or just a really cool homage to the sailing-to-the-moon scene in The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (1988)), but it does have a classical counterpart: “The ship took us to the deep, outermost Ocean / And the land of the Cimmerians, a people / Shrouded in mist.  The sun never shines there [...] Nor bathes them in the glow of its last golden rays; / Their wretched sky is always racked with night’s gloom” (Odyssey 11.14-19).

Both of these qualities—the cave and the darkness—fit Holtsmark’s observations on katabatic patterns: “The entryway to the other world is often conceived as lying in caves or grottoes or other openings in the earth’s crust into the nether regions, such as chasms or clefts. . . . The lower world is generally dank and dark, and the journey usually takes place at dusk or during the night” (Holtsmark 25).

At last, the pirates’ ship goes over the edge of an enormous waterfall and the screen fades to black.  Voices from the original Pirates of the Caribbean theme park ride echo over the dark screen, ending with the ominous phrase “Dead men tell no tales.”  However, we shall soon see this proved very wrong, for the pirates encounter several souls with tales to tell.  As for these nameless voices, they may represent multitudes of “bloodless shades” (Metamorphoses 10.42) left to languish in other parts of the Locker/Underworld.

At this point, the narrative cuts from the pirate band to Jack in Davy Jones’ Locker.  Jack warrants special punishment from Jones for disobeying the rules of a bargain they’d once struck (*yells forever about the good parts of The Price of Freedom and the crimes wrought by the DMTNT retcons*).  Jack’s own special hell, recalling the punishments of Tantalus and Sisyphus (Odyssey 11.611-629), does include his beloved Black Pearl (explicitly stated, by Jack himself, to be a symbol of personal freedom), but now it rests completely beached upon an endless, windless salt flat.  Jack is utterly alone in this wasteland, save for a crew of his own imaginary doppelgängers.

(I’m gonna be real with y’all: I don’t care for this scene at all and it brings the narrative to a screeching halt, so let’s just take a moment to angstily reflect on how profoundly this affects Jack-the-character’s psyche/mental state for the rest of the film and move on to better things.  God bless RPers and fic writers who deal with this scene and its effects in a deliciously Watsonian way.)

Tia Dalma/Calypso’s crabs eventually come to bear both captain and ship back to the sea.  This could be seen as classical-type divine aid/favoritism (a semi-literal deus ex machina) or as awkward, oh-no-what-do-we-do-now screenwriting, take your pick.  The crabs take Jack and the Pearl directly to the rest of the pirates, who have washed up on the Locker’s desolate shore.  In a twist on the classical formula, Jack initially thinks his rescuers the dead ones as they recount their past experiences.  Additionally, Jack represents a sort of Eurydice figure as the dead-in-need-of-rescuing, while his Orpheus, Elizabeth, is ironically the one who “killed” him in the first place.  All the pirates (Jack included) finally set sail in the freed Black Pearl and attempt to escape this Underworld: the anabasis has begun.

On their way out, when the sky grows dark, the crew encounter scores upon scores of shades floating aimlessly upon the sea:

This parallels Odysseus’ experience (“Then out of Erebus / The souls of the dead gathered / . . . They drifted up to the pit from all sides / With an eerie cry, and pale fear seized me” (Odyssey 11.34-35, 40-41)) as well as that of Aeneas (“Hither rushed all the [ghostly] throng, streaming to the banks . . . They stood, pleading to be the first ferried across, and stretched out hands in yearning for the farther shore” (Aeneid 6.305, 313-314)).  Tia Dalma reveals that long ago, Calypso had charged Davy Jones “to ferry those who died at sea to the Other Side,” but he has since abandoned his duty, hence his current eldritch appearance.  This explicitly posits Jones as a failed psychopomp who has now left these souls stranded like the unburied men of the Odyssey and Aeneid.

The crew leave these shades in peace until Elizabeth spots a familiar face: her father.

At this point I must ask you to rewatch this scene so you can fully appreciate the parallels without me including a lengthy transcript in this already long post.

This scene comes directly from classical literature, as both Odysseus and Aeneas encountered dead parents in the Underworld.  Odysseus saw his mother: “. . . At once / She knew me, and her words reached me on wings: / ‘My child, how did you come to the undergloom / While you are still alive?  It is hard for the living / To reach these shores.  There are many rivers to cross, / Great bodies of water, nightmarish streams, / And Ocean itself, which cannot be crossed on foot / But only in a well-built ship’” (Odyssey 11.151-158).  Like Elizabeth, Odysseus had no prior knowledge of his mother’s passing (11.170).  His mother warned him of the dangerous situation which had sprung up during his absence, just as Weatherby Swann warned the pirates of the dangers of Davy Jones’ Heart.  Aeneas likewise encountered the spirit of his father, Anchises: “‘Have you come at last[?] . . . Over what lands, what wide seas have you journeyed to my welcome! What dangers have beset you, my son!’” (Aeneid 6.687-693).  Anchises, too, offers some advice for the future, for he “tells of the wars that the hero next must wage . . . [and] how to face or flee each peril” (6.890-892).  Having Elizabeth be the one to encounter a dead parent in the Underworld confirms her as the series’ protagonist, in case that wasn’t patently obvious from the rest of the trilogy (and the failure of Pirates 4 and 5).  Weatherby Swann’s warning also serves to remind the audience of the stakes.

Finally, the pirates make their way out of the Locker.  While the remainder of their journey takes more inspiration from Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Western European folklore than classical literature, the latter’s influence on the film remains quite clear.  When the pirates return to the land of the living, it is daybreak:

(*Lawrence of Arabia theme, but on a cello*)

So, too, does Odysseus emerge from the Underworld into a new dawn: “Our ship left the River Ocean / And came to the swell of the open sea / . . . Where Dawn has her dancing grounds / And the Sun his risings” (Odyssey 12.1-5).  The pirates thus complete their katabasis/anabasis, and with rather more luck than Orpheus.

In review: The pirates begin their katabasis in Singapore, which boasts a plethora of Underworld symbolism, including a death-centric song and images of Charon, Tiresias, and Hades.  They cross various waters in their descent, mirroring locations from Homer and Vergil, and Barbossa quotes the Cumaean Sibyl.  Elizabeth and the pirates retrieve Jack from the Locker’s punishments in a twist on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth.  Like Odysseus and Aeneas, Elizabeth sees her dead parent in the Underworld, who warns her of things to come.  In the end, the pirates emerge from the Underworld into the light of dawn, signalling their return to life.  By borrowing from Homer, Vergil, and Ovid, At World’s End presents an Underworld narrative which is familiar in structure and yet easily incorporated into a new mythology: “Same story, different versions.”

(Please message me if you’d like to quote/reference this post in a paper and I can give you my name + details on the official version!  Plagiarism is shitty and unnecessary!)

WORKS CITED

Crispin, A.C.  Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom.  Disney Editions, 2011.

Fairclough, H.R., translator.  The Aeneid.  1916.  By Vergil.  Theoi Project, www.theoi.com/Text/VirgilAeneid6.html.  Accessed 4 May 2019.

Holtsmark, Erling B.  “The Katabasis Theme in Modern Cinema.”  Classical Myth & Culture in Modern Cinema, edited by Martin M. Winkler, Oxford University Press, 2001, pp. 23-50.

Homer.  The Odyssey.  The Essential Homer, translated and edited by Stanley Lombardo, Hackett Publishing Company, 2000, pp. 241-482.

Ovid.  Metamorphoses.  Translated by Stanley Lombardo, Hackett Publishing Company, 2010.

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End.  Directed by Gore Verbinski, performances by Keira Knightley, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Bill Nighy, Chow Yun-Fat, Geoffrey Rush, Tom Hollander, Jack Davenport, and Jonathan Pryce, Walt Disney Pictures, 2007.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest.  Directed by Gore Verbinski, performances by Keira Knightley, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Bill Nighy, Tom Hollander, Jack Davenport, and Jonathan Pryce, Walt Disney Pictures, 2005.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl.  Directed by Gore Verbinski, performances by Keira Knightley, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom, Geoffrey Rush, Jack Davenport, and Jonathan Pryce, Walt Disney Pictures, 2003.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

Back to You- Chapter 4

*REQUEST by UKgirl71

On a case, Sam Winchester saw a friend that he hadn’t seen in over ten years, Freya Scott. Freya was a blonde, fiery hunter with a serious skill set. The couple quickly realize how good they are for each other, in cases and life. With her, Sam starts to remember the possibilities he has outside of hunting, but when an accident rips them apart, will Sam ever be able to love anyone again? Will he be able to make it back to her?

Chapter Four, Deliver Me 

Sam

We'd been pouring over the lore for an hour and a half before Dean begrudgingly pushed into the motel. He was covered in dirt and bathed in annoyance. His eyebrow was twitching. "Well aren't you two just peachy."

"Come on, Dean. Don't be cranky." Freya said, from her position curled in the chair across the room from the door.

"Easy for you to say, Princess." He grunted. "I need a fucking shower. Sammy, please tell me you've found something out."

"Not so much."

"I still think its a Ghoul." Freya said, shutting her laptop. "I mean, look at the facts. Missing body parts. Changing into someone else... the bite marks."

"The only thing is that there's no corpse. No corpse in the grave tells me Revenant." Dean said, still sounding irritated.

"Okay, lets just cool it. Either way, it'll be out hunting at night, so we need to get our shit together and start looking around before someone else gets hurt. Dean go get in the shower, have a beer, and get the fuck over it."

Dean shot me a look before rolling his eyes and storming into the bathroom.

"He doesn't like me, does he?" Freya asked quietly. She always seemed like such a strong and independent woman, it was honestly really weird seeing her care what my brother thought.

"I wouldn't say that. He wouldn't invite you if he didn't like you."

"Sam, no offense, but I kind of think you're full of shit." Freya said with a shrug, letting her feet land on the floor. She stood up and stretched. "Do y'all just need a minute? I kind of need some air." She slid into her boots and her leather jacket.

"Hey." I said, standing up. "You good?"

Freya reached up and poked my nose. "I'm good, Kansas. Don't worry about me. I'll call you and meet up in a bit."

5 years later

She sat across from me, sipping on her coffee. She glanced up at me through her thick eyelashes, and through the steam from her coffee. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You're staring at me."

I could feel my neck heat up. "What? Oh.. sorry."

"It's okay." She smiled, sheepishly. Her cheeks tinting pink as well. "I don't really mind, just... is there something on your mind?"

I glanced down at my food. The noodles seemed to swirl around the bowl. I wasn't hungry. I was too fucking nervous being this close to her again. "You." I admitted. "Maybe that's crazy, but I just want to get to know you."

"Then ask me whatever you want."

"What have you been... up to?" Wow, super smooth, Sam. 

"That's a weird question." She laughed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Just working a lot. Taking care of stuff at home."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't comfortable. I sucked in my breath. I was messing everything up. She didn't know me. She was this other person. I sat my fork down and clenched my fists in my lap.

"Sam?" She murmured. I glanced up from my lap. Her eyes met mine. "Do you want to get out of here?"

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Yeah. I'd like that." I sat some cash down and we walked out into the night. "Where to?"

"Thought we could go for a walk."

I nodded to her. We went back into the cold, the snow picking back up. It swirled around us, and quieted the rest of the world. "So, tell me about you, Sam."

"Well, it's just me and my brother now. We travel a lot."

"For work?"

"Kind of, yeah."

"What do you do?"

"Contract stuff. We're kind of gypsies." I grinned widely at her in the darkness. "Nomads."

"Sounds lonely."

"It can be." I admitted. "But there are a lot of ways to be lonely."

"That's true."

"We've been traveling like this our whole lives. Dad was the same way. He was a mechanic, but he couldn't stay still."

"So you never had a real home?"

"Home is relative." I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Home is with Dean. In the same car we've driven in our whole lives." Home is with you.

"That's beautiful."

"You making fun of me?" I shot her a grin.

"What? No! I'm serious. I live in a city of a million people, and sometimes I feel so lonely I could scream."

I pull my hand out of my pocket, and slide my gloved hand into hers. She locks her fingers with mine. "I'm from small town USA, I can't even imagine living in a place like this."

"It can be magnificent." She said softly, her breath crystallizing in the freezing night air. "But it can also be stifling. In a place this big its impossible to not feel small."

I looked at her knowingly, and squeezed her hand. Our eyes landed on a large tree. It was covered in a stunning display of Christmas lights. Was it that time already? At the base of the tree people were ice skating. I smiled widely. "Man, I haven't done that in... I don't know. Never. Probably."

"Never ice skated? Oh, Sam. We're doing it."

"What?" I looked down at her, alarmed.

"You heard me." She pulled me toward the gate. I fumbled for my wallet and handed the man cash so he could give us skates.

"I'm going to fall." I complained.

"I'll catch you." She said casually.

"I would crush you." My eyes met hers.

"No you wouldn't."

There was something about the challenge in her eyes. The flicker of life behind her iris. She was still in there. "Fuck it, okay. Let's do it."

"Yes!" She grinned widely.

She put her small hand in mine, and I wrapped my fingers around hers carefully. I cradled her hand in mine, and I wouldn't let go. Now that I had her back, how could I ever let her go?

Freya

Present

I walked past the Jack-O-Lanterns that lined the Main Street. Something was going on in the town, in preparation for Halloween. The air was crisp and it smelled like burning leaves. I pulled my jacket closer to me, for fear that everything inside me could come spilling out.

What was I doing in this town? With these two brothers that I met a lifetime ago? I'd heard about them from other hunters at the Roadhouse among other places. They were famous. They were reckless, and way too involved with each other. Nostalgia aside, this was probably a bad idea. There wasn't room in my car for another person. There wasn't room in my life, and just because the Winchester's had an open back seat didn't mean they had room in their life for another person either. Seemed like Dean was already regretting inviting me along, and when I wasn't standing under Sam's massive shadow, I was starting to regret it, too.

I turned down the street that the victim lived on. The town wasn't that big, so with the police report fresh on my mind it wasn't hard to navigate to his place of residence.

The whole house was roped off with yellow crime scene tape. I looked around a few times, ducked under the tape, and waltzed into the house. In the early hours of twilight the house was eerily still. I walked through the front room, and into the kitchen. The sight of blood stopped me in my tracks. Small yellow tents were placed around the scene, to show the different instances of evidence. Wrist and leg restraints on the kitchen island. Pooling blood. The kitchen cutlery.

I swallowed hard.

The report stated that there was no forced entry. Of course there wouldn't be, if the intruder looked like his wife. Why wouldn't he let her in?

I pressed my lips together in wonder. I scanned the kitchen, suspiciously. No one reported screaming. No one reported anything. It wasn't until she was later questioned that the neighbor mentioned seeing the wife. Wouldn't that be suspicious? I would've called the police. Or checked in. Or something. Something. Why wouldn't he scream when he saw her? Unless he didn't let her in.. unless.

Unless she had a key.

There was a soft thud behind me. I turned quickly, my hand reaching for my gun, but it was too late. Fuck. It always is, isn't it?

Sam

I didn't realize I'd been pacing until Dean came out of the shower, drying his head. He wore a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt. "Princess bored of you already?" He asked when he noticed Freya wasn't in her chair across from me anymore.

"No, but she very well may be tired of you." I said, stopping to look at him.

"The fuck does that mean?"

"You're being an epic dick, dude."

Dean rolled his eyes. "So sensitive, Sammy."

"Don't Sammy me!" I snapped. "Why'd you invite her along if you didn't want her help?"

"We don't need her help, Sam. I invited her so you can get laid." He said flatly.

"Well, I don't exactly need your help with that." I met his tone and his eyes.

Dean and I never fought about women. Especially not like this. "What's it about her that's pissing you off?" I asked him carefully. "Really."

Dean sighed and rubbed his face. "You gonna make me say it?"

"Yeah. I think I am."

He groaned. Talking about feelings weren't exactly his forte. "Guess it didn't occur to me that you... I don't know. Like her?"

"What does that mean?" I raised an eyebrow. I didn't know what I'd expected him to say, but honestly that wasn't it.

"I thought it was about sex.. but watching you two, well fuck. Man you really like her, don't you?"

I pushed my hair behind both ears. "I mean.. yeah, dude. I guess I do."

Dean looked at his feet and shifted his weight awkwardly.

"What?" I asked him.

"Fuck. We don't do this shit, but fine, I'll say it." He rubbed his hands together before letting out an uneven breath. "Last time you found a girl... you wanted to settle down. Watching you two, well I guess it just occurred to me that if she sticks around you may... go. I know that sounds so fucking lame, and selfish, but fuck it's what I'm thinking. So sue me."

I smiled at him. "Dean, I'm not going anywhere." I laughed and shook my head. "Plus...Freya's a hunter. Not like she's just some regular girl. She's in the game. Has been since we were kids. You know hunters, they can't give it up, no matter what."

Dean met my eyes. "I can't believe I'm jealous of a fucking blonde."

"You're just mad that she beat you at Rock Paper Scissors." I gave him a large, shit eating grin.

"Shut up."

I shrugged.

"So what? Should we find your lady? I can apologize, I guess." He shrugged.

"Aw, you like her too, don't you?"

"Fuck off. I'm just a good wing man. Let's go." Dean sat down to put on his socks.

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my phone to dial her number. I frowned. There was a text from her. Three numbers. 911. I swallowed hard. "Dean?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm hurrying. Don't get your panties in a bunch."

"I think Frey's in trouble." I said, turning the phone to him.

"You tried calling her?"

I shook my head and pressed the green phone icon next to her name. It went straight to voicemail.

Freya

I came to, my head pounding from where I was hit. It was some goddamn miracle that I didn't have brain damage for all the times I was hit in the head. It happened more times than I could count. Usually, though, I didn't let monsters get the grab on me. Usually I wasn't so distracted. And by a fucking boy. Wait to go, genius. Dad would be proud.

I blinked a few times, my right eye was hazy, and red tinted from the blood that dripped down into it from my apparent head wound. I tried to move my arms, but they were restrained. My legs were restrained too, and I groaned. Fucking hell. I'm about to be monster chow. I struggled for a moment, yanking at the restraints, but they were too strong, and I was too tired.

I sighed.

As I went down, I clicked a message to Sam. The creatures boot crushed it in my hand after I clicked send. I hoped he would get it. I hoped he would understand.

The light that hung over me was bright and it obscured everything around me. There was a figure in the room, but I couldn't make them out because of the light. They were just a dark shadow behind me. I grunted and closed my eyes. It was over. I was going to fucking die, and all because I got involved. All because I crawled into the back of that fucking Impala, but yet, there was something else inside of me that was conjuring Sams face. He was a kid again, and then a man. He was pushing my hair out of my face, and kissing my neck in the shower. He was laughing, and his eyes crinkling in the corners. He was a release of a breath I didn't know I was holding. Something about him felt like the home I never had. Despite of everything, I would do it again. If he asked me. In that instance I knew that I would always climb into the back of that fucking car.

5 years later

I stepped out onto the ice and glided freely, my hand slipping out of Sams. I loved ice skating. It felt like flying. I went forward before turning around to make sure he was catching up.

The sight of this six foot tall giant gripping the wall, on hobbling newborn deer legs had me laughing out loud. I covered my mouth with my gloved hand as he narrowed his eyes at me. I shrugged and skated in a circle, goading him. My own inertia caused my hair to dance around me. I glanced at him through the blonde locks, and threw him a bright smile.

I watched him let out a warm breath into the icy air as he pushed off the wall. His ankles still trembled under his weight on the skates, but he managed to push himself forward. One foot. Then another. He smiled a bit, because he was getting it. First time skater and all, but maybe he was getting too cocky, or distracted, because he pushed forward a little faster. His toe must've caught a stray piece of ice, or maybe his ankle gave out underneath him, because suddenly this towering man was tumbling onto the ice.

I covered my mouth with my hands to stifle a gasp. He fell flat on his face, spread out in a X on the ice. "Sam?" I asked, quickly making it to his side. I dropped down on my knees and helped roll him over onto his back.

He groaned in response, when I pulled his head in my lap. "Hey big guy." I said, wiping some ice shavings off his cheeks. "You went down pretty hard there."

He looked up at me with hazy green eyes. "That was really embarrassing."

"It was kind of cute." I admitted with a smile.

"So this is how I get your attention?"

"Guess so." I said, softly looking down at him. He was so familiar, but yet so strange. Like maybe I knew him in another life. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"Nothing major." He said quietly, staring at me with stars in his eyes.

"Good." I exhaled, our breath mingling together, and before I realized it, before I could stop it, I found myself leaning down. I closed the space between us, pressing our cold, chapped lips together in the middle of the ice skating rink on a snowy December night in New York City, as if we were the only two people in the world. Because, maybe we were.

———————————-

Chapter Five

Get caught up!

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@foreverwayward

[huntertales]

Part One: The Wild, Wild West. (Frontierland S06E18)

Episode Summary: While searching for a way to defeat Eve, the Winchester brothers and the reader stumble upon Samuel Colt’s journal. Realizing Samuel might have the answer to their problems, the three of them ask Castiel to send them back in time to meet the man himself. While Sam and the reader are reluctant to time travel, Dean is beside himself with excitement to return to the Wild, Wild West. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 6,871.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

The reader’s mentioned outfit: 

P.S. For those who are wondering, I got inspiration and took the look from the show “Westworld.” (Which I’ve been conveniently watching the past few weeks…I totally recommend you check it out!)

Josh Carver was an unconventional best friend in every sense of the word. You had known him since you were fourteen but lost contact with him when he moved away a few years later to try and pursue a college education. Of course that didn’t last very long. Almost a decade passed before Josh was reunited you with under circumstances that resulted in him being possessed by a demon and your house wrecked after a break-in. Now the only conversations you had were mostly over the phone. And the only face to face contact you had since reuniting again was after you died and came back to life—which was three times now.  

You expected every time you picked up the phone to have a conversation with Josh he would finally tell you to go screw yourself and never talk to him again after the trouble you caused him. You turned his life upside down for the worst, and you would respect his wishes. But he never did that. He was always so happy to hear from you and willing to help with whatever sort of trouble you got into. When you asked him for some help dealing with the Mother of All and her freaks, along with a few private things, he jumped on the opportunity to be apart of the action.

You were overjoyed to be able to see Josh again in person on better circumstances. He was the exact person you needed now that all the Campbells were gone. Josh was book smart and had a knack for research. But there was a problem with your plan. You still needed to convince the boys to go along with your idea to have the man around. For whatever reason, they always had a dislike for Josh. You never understood. Luckily with some subtle threats and favors you were able to get them to begrudgingly agree.

You told Josh to meet you at Bobby's place to get started, worrying about the small details like where he'd sleep and other arrangements later on. You just wanted him to get here in one piece. It had been so long since you'd seen him in person. And this as the first time he was going to be working with all of you. You hoped the boys wouldn't scare him off the moment he stepped into the door. While Sam had grown quiet on the matter, Dean was still going strong of expressing his emotions on the matter when the day of Josh’s arrival came.

"I still don't like this guy." Dean, for what felt to be the tenth time this morning, made his opinion clear on the matter. You were occupying Bobby's desk with a book opened and your second cup of coffee this morning slowly being nursed. You glanced up for a moment to acknowledge what your boyfriend said with an annoyed glare. "He gives me the creeps."

"What? Josh is harmless." You defended your old childhood best friend from the judgement of your significant other. You gave him an eye roll at his dramatic behavior as you turned the page to the next one so you could continue reading a book Bobby had yet to get to after hoarding a few more books of lore. "The last time you seen him you almost kicked his ass for no reason.”

"No reason? He threatened me first. Not to mention the last time we really saw him he thought you were his fiancée" Dean defended himself against you. You were, yet again, interrupted from your reading as Dean continued on this much useless conversation that was leading the both of you nowhere at this point. You raised your brow slightly from what Dean implied, calling him out on the little white lie he pulled and how he was bringing up a scenario that happened in another universe different from your own. “Whatever. I still wanna punch him in the face. He’s a dick.”

"What is your probl—" You were about to ask him what was getting him so riled up, but then it hit you. You've seen this type of behavior from him before not too long ago. The way he was acting all tough, bringing up something that happened a few years ago to the strange universe mix up. You rested your arms on the desk and narrowed your eyes on the man as your lips stretched into a smirk, suddenly realizing what it was. "Oh my God. You're jealous."

“What?” Dean scoffed at what you were trying to imply by his behavior before letting out a slight chuckle. He tried to act normal by crossing his arms over his chest and calmed his expression into more of a calm one. You weren't the least bit fooled by it. "I've got nothing to be jealous of."

"Sure there isn't. What's there to be jealous of? Not the fact that he's only been my best friend before I met you. And in another universe him and I are madly in love while you and I didn't work out." You casually brought up the conversation again about the messy situation you and the boys were thrown into against your will. Dean's expression dropped slightly, you broke out into a smile at how he looked. "Oh my God. You're so gullible."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked away from the joke you pulled and pretended to be calm. He always promised you that he'd never be the possessive, jealous man who would get angry if another guy dare so looked in your direction. It wasn’t in his nature. Whenever you weren't working a case and enjoying some time out in public, Dean might do something like inch himself closer to you or wrap an arm around your waist if he saw a guy try to make a move on you. It was the subtle things that Dean did you enjoyed. He let the world knew that you were his, and he was yours.

You always found jealousy to be a turn off. Yet seeing Dean like this, squirming with possible thoughts of what might happen when Josh got here, it sort of felt....good. It was like sweet revenge for all those years he would shamelessly flirt with other women right in front of your face. You knew it was a bit childish to play slightly into the idea you had any sort of feeling for Josh. He was a close friend from another life before you devoted yourself to hunting who happened to know everything about the supernatural, too. It was a strange friendship you had, but it worked. He was like what you were for the boys. A crutch to a lean on when things got tough.

You shut the book you were previously reading and pushed yourself up to your feet when you heard knocking on the front door. You gave Dean a smile and patted him on the chest lightly to reassure him that everything was going to be fine before rushing to the door before Bobby or Sam could answer it. Before you did, you smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair to make sure you looked somewhat presentable for a friend you hadn’t seen in months. You inhaled a breath before opening up the door. Josh stood on the porch with his hands causally in his jean pockets as he looked around the place, taking in all the glory of the place. When he turned his attention forward, you welcomed him with a grin.

“Well, well, well.” You mumbled from who you saw standing right in front of you. You crossed your arms over your chest and stepped back to take a good look at your friend you hadn’t seen in months. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You didn’t happen to drop dead while I was gone, did you? Am I talking to your ghost or something? ‘Cause I feel like the only time i get to see you in person is when you died." Josh replied back to your sarcastic remark. Dean stood in the doorway of the library where you couldn't see him, even though your back was to him. He mocked your laugh you made at the stupid joke Josh made that wasn't the least bit funny. “Damn, Y/N. It’s so good to see you.”

“Come in, come in.” You ushered the man inside as you opened the door wider and stepped out of the way so Josh could be formally introduce to everyone. You nervously swallowed when you heard the sound of multiple footsteps approaching. Shutting the door, you noticed it was the brothers who were here to greet your guest. “Where’s Bobby?”

“He’s getting a few things before we hit the road.” Dean said. You nodded your head and gave the boys a quick glance when Josh greeted the two men with a friendly smile. The brothers could see the threatening glare subtly hidden in your calm expression if they tried to pull anything stupid. Dean decided to be the bigger person here like you wanted him to be. He outstretched his hand and offered it to Josh for him to shake. "Hey, man. Been a long time."

Yeah. Too long." Josh said. He shook hands with the older Winchester before nodding greeting the same way to Sam when he greeted the man with another hello and a firm handshake. You had a feeling things were going well. But you weren't holding your breath that things would last this long. "Glad I could be apart of this whole situation. I’ve been doing a lot of research.”

“You sure you really want to do this?” Sam’s question made your attention avert to him. You expression dropped slightly as you began to stare at him with an angry glare from what you think he was trying to do. The younger Winchester only made a joke as he cracked a smile to keep things civil. "There's a lot of book research involved. Gets kind of tedious."

“Don’t worry, man.” Josh said. “I’ve been waiting to get in on the action for a long time.”

You let out a sigh of relief from how smooth things seemed to be going. So far the brothers had welcomed Josh with no problem and carried on a civil conversation. Footsteps from the kitchen made you realize there was one person for Josh to meet. You pushed the man slightly forward to greet someone Josh was the most nervous of all to meet after everything you told him about. "Bobby, I'd like you to meet someone..."

+ + +

Over the past few months the four of you, including Josh, had been tirelessly trying to find a way to take down Eve for good. All of you spent countless hours collecting all sorts of books and sat in front of your laptop scouring the internet for some kind of hint to find what her weakness was. But you kept coming up blank. You needed to find something before you had a face to face with the thing. While you were having trouble doing so, you remembered that you weren’t the only one who knew about the Mother of All and wanted to see her dead.

Samuel Campbell had been tracking down Eve and her little monsters with what was left of his family even after his boss, Crowley was killed off. He kept a neat and organized office that you were rarely allowed to go into without him supervising you. There was one time Samuel trusted you enough to let you in on a secretive spot when you first started hunting with him and told to never go back down there again. Yet here you stood in the middle of his office with the boys, Bobby and Josh. The entire Campbell residence had been abandoned for a few months now. It was the only place you could think of to find a possible lead on how to stop Eve.

The only problem was trying to remember where it was. You didn’t spend the last several hours stuck in the Impala with the brothers in the front seats with you and Josh in the back, making awkward small talk for all of this to come down to nothing.

“Look it’s here somewhere.” You mumbled in frustration. You examined the wooden floors with a close eye, trying to find some kind of handle that Samuel had tried to hide in plain sight. All you could remember about Samuel’s hiding spot was that it was underground, he had a special way of getting in. He tried to hide it from you, but you saw. There were no rugs and tables around the place to make it easily hidden. Except for his desk. You walked forward and tried to move the heavy object by yourself, but you failed miserably. “Dammit. Sam, Josh. Move this thing.”

You stepped out of the way for the two tallest men to move the desk so you could get a closer look around at the floor when nothing caught your eye. The two men moved the desk with ease so you could continue your search. What you were expecting to find was some sort of secret latch hidden underneath the desk. Maybe it was too obvious. Maybe you were looking at this all wrong when you noticed a loose screw ever so slightly popping out of place.

You crouched down on the ground when a suspicious hunch grew at what you saw. There was nothing like this on any other part of the floor. It took a few tries before you pulled out the screw from the spot it was resting in. You expected the screw to come popping out, but it remained safely fastened into the wood, making you realize this was the handle you were looking for. You used all your strength to open up the opening of the trapdoor that lead to the underground layer Samuel tried so hard to hide from you. Your lips stretched into a smirk of victory. If only that old bag of bones could see you know.

Dean turned on the flashlight and took a step to inspect what might be down there before any of you got the idea of going exploring down there. What you saw was a lot of dust and cobwebs along with a ladder leading down. “Well, I’ll be damned.” Bobby mumbled, impressed at what he saw, and curious for what was down there waiting to be explored.

You did the honors of being the first one to go down into the underground layer with everyone else following behind one by one. You stumbled a bit in the dark before finding what felt to be a lightswitch and turned it on. Slowly the lights began to kick on as the boys came down first along with Bobby and then Josh. "Welcome to the Campbell family library." You gestured an arm around at the decent sized space that was lined with numerous books and a college of all sorts of information. "Maybe we'll be lucky and find something useful."

Josh was an awe at what he saw, from the books to the old photographs on the walls of what you were presuming to be Campbell relatives from decades before. Dean circled around the place and examined what he saw. “Samuel collected all of this stuff, huh?” He asked. You nodded your head, seeming to think that’s what he did. “Wow. Well, what are we looking for?”

“Well, anything that’ll put a run in Octomom’s stockings.” Bobby said. You placed your hands on your hips and looked around the room to see the entire place was covered in stock piles of books and leather bound journals. All of you were going to be here for a while. “Pick a row.”

You looked over at Josh to see how he was doing. The man swallowed slightly as he suddenly felt overwhelmed at the vast amount of knowledge surrounding him. He decided to get to work on one part of the room while the boys each took a spot. Bobby turned on a few more lights to give all of you some better lighting. You skimmed through at least a few dozen books but only ended up pulling a few books that seemed what you might be looking for. Bobby got lucky when he found a book that was exactly what he needed. Soon enough after going through almost all of the books here, the five of you headed to the table to do the hardest part of all; research.

Samuel kept a good collection of books that mentioned Purgatory, but nothing mentioned about Eve herself. You looked up every once in a while to see that Josh was focused on reading the books he pulled off the shelf as the boys quietly did their own research. Everything seemed to be going well like you hoped. You returned your attention back to the book you were reading and turned the fragile page to continue.

“Either of you jokers ever heard of anything about a phoenix?” Bobby’s question made all four of you look up from your books. You furrowed your brow slightly from what he was asking.

“River, Joaquin or the giant flaming bird?” Dean asked, giving a few possible examples.

"It says here that the ashes of a phoenix can burn the Mother." Bobby read off from the book, making you wonder if it was the same mother you were trying to stop.

“That’s great.” You said, thinking this was the exact leading you spent over the past few hours looking for in all of these books. “Where do we get one?”

Bobby shrugged his shoulders, “You got me. I thought it as a myth,”

"They never make it easy for us, do they?" You muttered underneath your breath. You let out a quiet sigh as you rubbed your eyes in slight frustration when you were forced to take a detour in all of this. "Great. Well, let's see if we can find something about a phoenix."

More research meant more books were needed to be pulled off the shelf. You and Josh worked on gathering different ones from the shelves while Sam and Bobby went through the ones you had on the table. Dean worked on going through some leather bound journals after he stumbled across quite a few of them. While you went through your fifth book, Dean stood with the same journal he had in his hands as he read it underneath a small lamp. A small smile was on his lips as he continued on reading adventures that were intriguing for the man. The more he read, the more he realized he might have found the jackpot.

“Guys. Guys, guys, guys, check this out.” Dean excitedly said. He came walking over to the table and sat himself back down to show you the journal he had been reading. You looked up to see there was a smile on his face. “‘’March 5th, 1861. Sunrise, Wyoming. Gun killed a phoenix today. Left a pile of smoldering ash.’”

“Really?” Sam asked, intrigued at what he heard. “Whose gun?”

Dean’s smirk grew as he answered his brother, “Colt’s.”

“Colt?” You wondered as you raised your brow in curiosity if he meant what you were thinking. “Colt, like—”

“Like the Colt, Y/N. From…” Dean shut the journal to show off the front leather cover with what appeared to be a devil’s trap etched into it. He broke out into a grin when he flipped to the very first page for you to read the famous name of a man who had wrote his name into over a hundred and fifty years ago. “Samuel Campbell’s journal.”

“What?” Sam asked, breaking out into a grin. He pointed at the journal with a bit of disbelief at what he was staring at. “That’s his?”

“Wait, wait.” Josh looked over at you, confused at who this Samuel was. While the boys argued over who could see the journal like a bunch of five year olds, Josh asked you a few questions to try and get caught up to speed. “Who’s Samuel Colt?”

"Samuel Colt is a man who created this gun that could kill about any monster. Demon, vampire, whatever. Except, in our experience, not the devil. Learned that the hard way." You explained to him, cracking a slight smile at the end of your sentence. Josh raised his brow, obviously wanting to know more about what you meant about the devil. You shook your head slightly, giving him a look that you'd tell him later. You still needed to figure out this whole other situation. "What else did Samuel say about the phoenix? What does it look like? Hell, does it have feathers?”

“Just says ‘phoenix.’” Dean said, not being able to provide more information than that.

“Did he say where he tracked it?” Bobby asked, the older Winchester shook his head.

“All right. I guess we gotta find one of our own.” Sam said. “Whatever it is.”

Dean stared at the journal for a moment or so until a plan hatched itself in his head. He sat up straight in his seat and placed the journal down on the table. “I know where we can find one.” He said. You gave him a curious look, wondering what that brain of his was thinking. “March 5th, 1861. Sunrise Wyoming. We’ll Star Trek IV this bitch.”

Your expression slowly changed as your brow furrowed slightly, now feeling slightly confused at his reference you didn't quite get. You and Sam exchanged a look, the both of you lost as Bobby admitted, "I only watched Deep Space Nine."

“Star Trek IV, save the whales. Right? Is that even possible?” Josh asked the older Winchester, curious if the man was making a reference to a movie he had watched. When Dean nodded his head, Josh broke out into a grin at what he was thinking. You stared at your friend with a baffled look, causing him to clear his throat, feeling slightly awkward at his nerdiness that was peeking through. “My dad got me hooked on the show and movies when I was nine. We would go to a Star Trek convention every year until he died.”

“Wait, what’s possible?” You asked the two men. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

"Finally. Someone who gets a good reference. It's like I don't even know you guys anymore." Dean gestured a hand to Josh before giving the rest of you a disappointed glare. You were happy to see the two of them were getting along with their eighties movies, but you rolled your eyes when he stalled on telling all of you his genius plan. "We hop back in time, join up with Samuel Colt, hunt the phoenix and then we haul the ashes back home with us."  

“Time travel?” Bobby asked. Dean broke out into another smile as he nodded his head. “That’s a reasonable plan?”

“We got a guy who can swing it.” Dean said. You began to think his idea wasn’t so bad after all. He shut the journal and pushed himself up to his feet, dragging the chair across the floor. Dean thought for a moment about the right way to recite a prayer so your friend could get down here to help all of you. “Castiel...the, uh, date of the world is in the balance...so come on down here.” You looked around the room to see where the angel might have appeared out from. But he was nowhere to be seen. “Come on, Cas. I Dream of Jeannie your ass down here, pronto. Please.”

A few seconds later you heard the familiar sound you had associated with angels and their fun act of popping out of thin air. You were expecting to be greeted with the familiar trench coat and suit Cas had worn over the past three years. Instead a woman stood with a smile. Dean stupidly mumbled Jeanie, the angel corrected him with her real name.

“Rachel.” She introduced herself to all of you. “I understand you needed some assistance. How can I help you?”

“Well, uh, we kind of need to talk to the big kahuna.” Dean told the angel.

“I’m here on Castiel’s behalf.” Rachel said. Sam found the excuse a little bit strange. He asked where your fellow angel friend was. “Busy.”

“Busy?” Dean repeated what the angel said, she nodded her head. “Well, we’ve got a line on the Mother of freaking everything, so—“

“I’m sure your issue is very important, but Castiel is currently commanding in army, so—“ Rachel cut off the older Winchester, feeding him an excuse you weren’t buying when you pushed yourself up to your feet to butt yourself into the conversation.

“So we get stuck with Miss Moneypenny.” You said, guesting an arm to the angel that stood behind you as you broke out into a smile. Josh nervously chuckled, afraid of what the right kind of response was. You told him all about angels, but this was the first time meeting you.

“So you need to learn your place.” Rachel snuck a command in. Your smile slowly faded as your expression changed. You turned around in your spot to give the woman an amused, almost curious expression at what she just let slip out her mouth.

“Excuse me? What did you just say to me?” You asked the angel. Your lips stretched into a smirk as you stared at her with an expression that showed you weren’t the least bit afraid of her. “Let’s get one thing straight here, sister. You don’t ever talk to me like that. Because I don’t know who the hell you think you are—“

"I'm his friend." Rachel stated. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at her. You made it quite clear that you were friends with the other angel, too. "No, I don't think you are. I think you call him when you need something. We're fighting a war."

“Okay,” Sam said in a calm tone. “We get that.”

“Clearly you don't, or you wouldn’t call him every time you stub your toe you pretty, entitled little piece of—” Rachel thought it would be a smart idea to let her true feelings show. She was letting it all out as she raised her voice as she continued speaking. You crossed your arms tighter over your chest as you stared at the angel, waiting for the moment to tell her how it really was. Before she could say something she would regret, a familiar voice cut her off.

“Rachel.” Cas stood across from his supposed friend. “That’s enough.”

The woman composed herself, trying to make it appear that she wasn’t having an embarrassing fight with a couple of humans that he called his friends, too. “I told you I’d take care of this.”

“It’s all right, you can go.” Cas said. Rachel was surprised to hear the angel was staying to hear out whatever sort of ridiculous scheme you were about to waste his time with where there were more important matters at stake. “I’ll come when I can.”

Rachel respected her friend’s change of plans, she was gone in the blink of an eye. You let out a sigh of relief to know that she was far away from this place. “Wow.” Dean said, a bit taken back at the first impression the woman made on all of you. “Friend of yours?”

“Yes. She’s, uh, my lieutenant. She’s committed to the cause.” Cas said. He took a step forward and looked around the table to see all the familiar faces he was expecting, except one that he had never seen before. He stared at Josh with a bit of a curious expression. “Who is this?”

"Oh. Uh, right. Josh, there's someone else I want you to meet." You said, looking over at your other friend. Josh suddenly looked like a deer in headlights when he realized he was about to meet the one and only Castiel you spoke so much about, from the high and lows. You smiled slightly at his priceless face. You guestred for him to get up to his feet, the man did so in the matter of seconds. "Josh, I'd like you to meet possibly the only friendly angel—Castiel. We just call him Cas. It's easier."

"Castiel. It's such an honor to meet you." Josh said. He wasn't sure what to do, being that he was finally able to meet the angel you had talked so much about. He nervously put out his hand in front of him for the angel to shake, Cas stared at him. Josh nervously chuckled and put his hand back to his side, wondering if he might have done something wrong. "Right. Uh…”

“Don’t worry. He’s awkward about human...things.” You explained the best you could about Cas’ strange behavior to your friend. You turned your attention back to the angel and to the reason why you called him down here in the first place. “Now, how do you feel about the 1860s?”

+ + +

The next morning all of you were back in Bobby’s house after finding a possible lead to take down Eve. You settled Josh into a nearby motel for the remainder of his stay, however long that might be until you got this situation settled down. Josh had taken it upon himself, after nervously asking Bobby, took go nuts over the collection books the older hunter had collected over the years that were just gathering dust instead of being used.

While Josh stuck with lore, you and Sam helped Bobby get the weapons you might need like guns and knifes. You occupied yourself by loading up your gun with iron rounds along with one chamber full of silver. You didn’t know what was a phoenix's weakness, and if you happened to see one without the colt, you rather be safe than dead.

“Where the hell’s Dean?” Bobby asked. You glanced up for a moment from what you were doing  to see that the older Winchester had been out for a while, at least over an hour now.

“Supply run, he said.” Sam mentioned what his brother’s excuse was. “I don’t know.”

“Um, about your plan…” Cas spoke up the first time this morning since he got here. You told him about Dean’s great idea about jumping back a hundred and fifty years to see a phoenix get killed with the very gun you were hunting for just a few years ago. It seemed there was going to be a bit of a complication in Dean’s genius idea. “You’ll only have twenty-four hours.”

“What?” Sam asked in a surprised tone. He pushed himself up to his feet and walked over to the angel to hear the angel’s reasoning. “Why?”

“Well, the answer to your question can best be expressed as series of partial differential equations.” Cas said. All of you were smart to handle a complicated explanation, but you told the angel to break it down so even Josh could understand why you would have such limited time. “The further back I send you, the harder it becomes to retrieve you. Twenty-four hours is all I can risk. If I don’t pull you home within that time, you’ll be lost to me.”

“Well, then we better get you a watch.” Dean’s voice came out nowhere. You leaned over ever so slightly to see that he was back from his supply run. You were a bit surprised to see he was carrying three rather large paper bags. You gestured a finger to the bags, asking what all this was about. “We are going native. Gotta blend in.”  

You could feel your face drop slightly when Dean put one of the bags he was holding down to the ground and held out the other two for you and his brother to take. You looked down at the bag logo, reading that it was from a place called Wally's Western World with a cowboy and a lasso. You grimaced slightly as Sam quickly shot down the plan his brother was trying to pull.

“Uh, no thanks. I’m fine.” Sam said. The older Winchester knew that would be a stupid idea as he mumbled his brother’s name. “Dean, I can wear this.”

“And look like a spaceman?” Dean asked.

“Look, I’m with Sam on this one. Just because you’re obsessed with that Wild West stuff—” You said, Dean scoffed at your accusation and denied that he did. “You have a fetish for it. I bet you got me a saloon girl outfit for me.”

“Shut up. No I didn’t.” Dean said, suddenly acting hurt at the accusation on his poor judgement of a time period outfit that wouldn’t work for the hunt. You didn’t fall for it as you raised your brow slightly, knowing you were still right about his unhealthy obsession with westerns. “I like old movies.”

“You can recite every Clint Eastwood movie ever made.” Sam said. “Line for line.”

“Even the monkey movies?” Josh asked from the corner of the library he was standing with a book he was reading. Dean tossed the man a glare from the conversation he butted himself into.

“Especially the monkey movies.” You said.

“His name is Clyde.” Dean mumbled. You shook your head from how Dean played himself into that one as Sam gestured an arm at his brother to prove the point he was trying to make. Dean held up the bag for his brother. “At least wear the damn shirt. And Y/N, I did not get you a saloon girl outfit...They didn’t have any.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the bag from him as Sam did the same, giving into the point that Dean was right. You couldn’t go walking around in 1861 with jeans and a flannel. It would raise too many questions. You claimed the upstairs bathroom to change leaving the boys to fend for themselves to find a place to get into character. You were expecting the outfit Dean picked out to be either non-practical or stupid. However, you were rather pleasantly surprised to see that everything fit right and seemed like it would work for this hunt.

The outfit Dean picked out consisted of a light blue pinstripe button up you tucked into a pair of beige jeans that paired well with a basic brown belt and riding boots that were your own. To top it off you even wore the hat he got you and adjusted the holster you would use to carry around at your side. You even went the extra mile of pleasing Dean by incorporating a bandana that matched the color of your shirt. Now you couldn’t help yourself but have a bit of fun. You tied it around your neck and pulled it up to conceal most of your face, only leaving your eyes. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

You exited the bathroom when you heard someone calling your name from downstairs after you were the last one up here. Making your way down the staircase and to the library, you made your grand entrance in the outfit Dean picked out. You couldn’t help yourself when you quickly drew your hands up and made finger guns for the hell of it since you were dressed like a bandit.

“All right, nobody move. This is a stickup.” You said, your voice slightly muffled from the fabric around your mouth. “Give me all your money.”

“Who the hell are you supposed to be, Billy the Kid?” Bobby asked. You mocked his question as you pulled down the bandana so it now rested around your neck like it was supposed to be. “All of you look like you’re going to a hoedown.”

“This is stupid.” Sam grumbled. “Told you I would look stupid.”

You turned your head to see that Sam was wearing a white button down with what looked to be yellow flowers designed into his shirt along with a cowboy hat he refused to wear. "Sam, you look so handsome." You complimented him as you broke out into a smile from how he managed to pull off the shirt so well. You looked over at his brother, who was smiling ear to ear at how you were pulling off the outfit he picked out Your smile smile slowly faded when you saw him dressed in way you weren't expecting. "Dean...what the hell are you wearing?"

“Now, is it customary to wear a blanket?” Cas asked. He couldn’t help himself but ask when he noticed the older Winchester’s outfit drastically differed from Sam’s and yours.

“It’s a serape. And, yes. It’s, uh…” Dean corrected the angel and got ready to explain the history of how it came into fashion. However it would have to wait for another day when you and his brother gave him a look. “Never mind. Let’s just go.”

You looked down at the desk to see Bobby had filled the duffel bag filled with some of the gold you stole from the dragon layer you hit a few months back. You grabbed your loaded gun and placed it in the holster of your jeans for safekeeping before you reached for the gold, wondering why all of you would need it. Bobby reminded you that things were different over a century and a half ago. Money you had like credit cards and dollar bills of presidents would be useless. It was all about gold back then.

“I’ll send you back to March 4th.” Cas said. “That should give you enough time to find the colt and this phoenix creature.”

“All right, well, see you at high noon tomorrow...partner.” Dean said, breaking out into a grin as he finally got to say something that he probably had always wanted. You and Bobby rolled your eyes when Dean added an added wink for effect.

Cas stepped forward to the three of you to send you a hundred and fifty years into the past, which would be the longest you had ever went back into. Time travel was some weird stuff. One minute you were standing in Bobby's library, and the next minute you were sinking into what felt like mud. You opened your eyes to see that you were standing on a dirt road with the boys, a wooden sign just ahead with the words of “Sunrise WYO” painted in bold white letters. All of you had made it with no trouble at all. The fun was just about to begin.

“Oh, now we’re talking.” Dean whispered. He was in absolute bliss at what he was surrounded by. You were just happy you didn’t step in anything that came out from an animal’s ass. Sam made sure to program his watch for a twenty-four hour countdown. “Alright, let’s go find Samuel Colt. Hey, we should try to find a saloon first...see what we can get from the locals.”

“Sure.” You agreed with the plan. You looked over at him and took one glance at that serpae before letting out a chuckle from how ridiculous he looked. “Whatever, Sundance.”

“Hey Sammy. Think we’ll have time to hit on the saloon girls?” Dean asked. You looked over at the man with a slightly disgusted look. Those girls were a walking petri dish of infections. There was a chance you could catch something from just breathing the same air as them. Dean knew his idea was a stupid one. “Kidding. Come on.”

You and Dean started to head into town, Sam took one step to follow behind, but he stepped into something that didn't feel like mud. "Oh dammit." The younger Winchester hissed. He looked down to see that he walked right into a fresh pile of horse manure. He lifted up his new cowboy boot to see it was covered in crap. "Come on."

“You know what that is?” Dean asked his brother when he took it upon himself to rest a hand on his shoulder to balance himself in attempt to kick off the manure before it could stick.

“Yeah.” Sam said, getting ready to say a not so nice word. “It’s horse—”

“Authenticity!” Dean cut off his brother with a grin.

Dean walked off without realizing that he nearly let Sam lose his balance and fall face first into the manure. You offered to help Sam by letting him lean his giant frame against your shoulder so he could kick off the crap before heading into town. You noticed that he was eyeing the bandana. "Don't even think about it." You warned him. You liked how it worked with your outfit. And Dean would be disappointed. "Get that crap on me I'll rub your face in it."

Sam rolled his eyes in frustration when he was left to kick off the manure as a last resort since he had no other options. He managed to get most of it off before the both of you caught up with an impatient Dean, who was nothing more than excited to get this hunt started.

[Next Part]

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[kylydian]

Breath of the Wild Music Analysis: Folk Music and Kass’s Theme

Breaking into one of the deepest tracks (Characters?) in the game! There’s quite a bit of historical context to unpack here, so let’s get to it.

Track 13: Kass’s Theme

Genre: Folk, Waltz    

Featured Instruments: Accordion

Compositional Techniques: Historical Context

Truthfully, this track isn’t too complicated composition wise, so rather than covering the composition in depth, let’s delve a bit into ethnomusicology and how it’s implemented into Kass’s theme, and by extension the role of Kass himself. The applications are pretty neat and are very easy to gloss over. In identifying exactly what this track does let’s first set a preface, because this is an info rich post.

An accordion being performed is significant, the fact that Kass is a traveling musician is important, and lyrics play a role in understanding how Kass’s music works. All of these actually interact behind the scenes to create something awesome! So, let’s start by briefly talking about the style of music, because that’s what I’ve been doing. Best to knock it out now.

This track is a Viennese Waltz, or for all intents and purposes a waltz. If you’re even somewhat familiar with basic musical forms or dance, you’ll likely know what a waltz is. Waltzes are marked by a 3 beat pattern, often played at a tempo fast enough to make you feel only one beat at a time. The fact that we can trace this form of music historically to Austria’s capital Vienna will play a little bit of a role later on, but just keep that in the back of your mind for now. You’ll likely recollect that you can hear similar sounding accordion music in a lot of other media, and when you do, it’s often to accompany the performer singing. These vocals are generally easy to understand and will either explain part of a story, or describe a scene that’s going on. Vocals and accordion go pretty hand in hand in many types of music. Again, save that for later!

The melody is very memorable, and obviously is associated with Kass, which keeps us in the realm of more traditional Zelda music. But it’s important to realize that the waltz itself isn’t necessarily overly significant in this case. Waltzes exist in all forms of instrumentation. In fact, if you remember, I explained how the music in the large guardian battles is actually a waltz. Because of this, let’s look to how we could actually tie in the accordion to aspects in Breath of the Wild other than the music itself.

Accordion is often associated with a very wide, sweeping genre of music called folk music. Folk music in many ways might be the widest genre of music possible, as it simply refers to “traditional” music in the confines of western music history. By this association, every nationality has traditional folk music. Because of this, folk music can sometimes be associated with “World Music.” This is not an absolute generalization however, as world music definitely does exist outside of the realm of folk. The easiest way to think of traditional folk music, is as a type of music that is usually transmitted orally, across generations, and performed over long periods of time. Naturally because of this, having a good recognizable melody is everything.

However, transmitted orally is one of the most important things to understand in relation to traditional folk music. In general, the idea behind folk music is it’s a music representative of a traditional culture, music of the past if you would. It’s music that had no way to be recorded other than to be passed down with the intention of future generations remembering it. These are often songs associated with religion, custom, holidays or spirituality, but they’re all passed down by the idea of tradition. The interesting thing about where traditional folk music occurs today is in towns or areas that might be…let’s call it “Old fashioned.” Small, isolated villages are prime targets to find traditional folk music. The thing about Breath of the Wild though, is every village is pretty isolated and each one has a very strong visual and cultural representation in someway or another. Without the influence of many outside sources, this would make each village prime material for cultural folk music. And remember, the accordion is our symbol that relates to folk music itself. Which brings us to its performer Kass.

Kass is a Rito and a traveling minstrel, or musician. His purpose in the game is to learn the songs of the various lands in Hyrule, the songs that have been passed down over generations. Believe it or not, this is actually very similar to a profession called ethnomusicology. Ethnomusicologists generally study the traditional music of cultures or people, doing things like residencies, interviews, or recordings of performances. They’re people who are trying to retain a musical past, one that’s often only translated in person. They hold onto the music we don’t know about, so that one day we can hear it too. It’s often a behind the scenes job, and one that can go easily forgotten.

The neat thing is, because Kass travels to different lands, tribes, and locations to learn about their music, documenting them for future generations, he’s a sort of in game ethnomusicologist.

Kass’s songs tell stories, or provide riddles that help you solve puzzles, but the important thing is that they’re direct lore for Breath of the Wild because they contain lyrics, even if they’re only through text. If we think back to when I talked about Nier: Automata, I said lyrics allow us to provide literary meaning to music, something that you’ll often hear in folk music.

In addition to this, Kass plays a ton of music over the course of the game. You can hear a bunch of different versions of both new and familiar Zelda music. Which…since Nintendo says that Breath of the Wild takes place at the “end” of the Zelda timeline (Don’t get me started on this), it’s very evident that the music in question would also have been passed down through the ages similar to folk music. And for the songs that relate to the regions, those would be direct representations of the tribes’ folk music, passed down over time.

Because of the way he presents the music, both past, old and present. You could stretch it and say all of his renditions of music could be considered folk music. So naturally, let’s stretch this to the breaking point.

One of the songs that can be heard is the main Breath of the Wild theme. This is significant in a way, and although it can be chalked up to the fact that “it’s a different arrangement of the main theme end of story,” this places the song in the game’s world itself. You could then infer that the theme of the wild is actually music that has the potential to be passed down in game as well. It has a strong, memorable melody, and has important association for the game. It’s a direct representation of the soundtrack by our traveling Rito musicologist.

Again, more than likely this wasn’t intended, it most likely was simply “Man wouldn’t it be cool to have him play the main theme as well?” That doesn’t make it any less important though. The best ideas to find are the ones that might not be there.

However, something that does hold great significance is the ending to Kass’s storyline. If you complete all of his challenges, you can find him completing his wish in performing in front of his siblings in Rito village. He starts by playing his theme (with a few variations on articulation,) and eventually goes through some changes before he ends up on the familiar main theme for The Legend of Zelda

Historical contexts are important, and despite what Nintendo says about any timeline,  music has always held kind of a historical Easter egg worth of information if you will. And honestly, this is the biggest, brightest egg of them all. We’ve known the main theme for the Legend of Zelda from the very beginning of the series, and it’s made an appearance at some point throughout all of the games. It’s a very important theme, but as you’ll notice it only plays at a few places in the soundtrack. Sometimes for seemingly no reason (Riding the horse,) and others for important locations (Hyrule Castle.)

Throughout our personal histories with the Zelda series, we’ve come to associate this track as one that transcends the games, the timelines etc. We’ve likely made assumptions (even if subconscious) that the theme is present in the world of Hyrule itself, even if it doesn’t always appear that way. But with Kass performing it, you could infer that this is now transmitted music of Hyrule, much like the music of the tribes, legends and history of the now broken Hyrule.    

That’s cool.

This has been an overly long exposition, so let’s get into some quick meat of how we can apply this information to our own work.

Essentially what’s being done with Kass is creating lore through music. The songs Kass performs, whether shrine, divine beast, champion, city or whatever related, in someway or another build lore. If we think about the way the story is structured this makes complete sense. If you like, you can actually skip all of the story other than “The kingdom is broken Link. You must stop Ganon.” Or you can take the time to experience as much about about the world and the story as you choose to. Kass’s music is also a direct reflection of this. His purpose is to transmit the music to those that listen, allowing Link, you the player to learn more about the lore of the world. This is a unique way to not only provide more story, but also music that is relevant to the in-game world. Making the music itself a part of the lore.

So why not find ways to incorporate music into lore in our own projects? Admittedly, this isn’t easy, nor should it always be done. There are many ways that it could distract from player experience depending on the project, but if able to be accomplished it can provide a new way for music to be heard, experienced, and appreciated, even if not explicitly noticed. Breath of the Wild does it through a traveling character that develops overtime, but why not find other ways?

Truthfully, Zelda music has always done very well in incorporating music into lore. Playing music in Ocarina of Time and Majora’s Mask are the two most obvious ones, but you can find instances in Wind Waker, Twlight Princess, and the often forgotten Ballad of the Wind Fish in Link’s Awakening.

In these cases, playable music, music association, and direct story implications are three ways to accomplish this. But honestly the possibilities on how to include music into lore are endless. After all, what is music other than retelling a story?

Let’s break it down.

Summary: Kass’s theme is representative of his character who present a unique take on the idea of traditional folk music in the land of Hyrule. Our clues include his instrument of choice, his status as a traveling musician, and that he collects songs to pass on to future generations. This act of passing on songs is a direct representation of lore, as it interacts with gameplay, and can add key story segments to the overall plot. Kass’s theme itself is reflective musically of traditional folk music.

Takeaways for Developers: Consider possible ways that you can build lore through music. There are many ways to do this, and many ways to do this incorrectly. Think about ways that you could place music inside the game’s world itself, and how the music could be representative of your setting, characters or ideas.

Takeaways for Composers: Using influences of folk music is a powerful way to build lore through music. Find ways that music might be able to be directly representative of a group of people, kingdoms, or countries when applicable. Remember the connotations that are carried with folk music. To effectively translate lore through music, it might be easiest to include lyrics, even if only in text.

I’ll come out and say that this has been one of my favorite tracks to listen, research and write on. To be honest, I could unpack even more here if I really wanted to. But I don’t want to make this more of a novel than it already is. Please feel free to reach out with any questions to my DMs, or at Kyle@KyldianMusic.com. I’d love to chat with you!

I’ll be back soon with the next entry in this series~

[crystalnet]

The Awkward 7th Gen of JRPGs and Mistwalker Games

Ah the seventh generation. The era in which, partly because of the actual state of gaming and partly because of unrelated circumstances, I fell out of love with games. It wasn't until the dust had cleared on the gen that I got back into this past-time and was able to appreciate and re-evaluate the generation by doing a bit of an autopsy on it once this long, strange gen had finally come to a close. The 7th gen seems troubled and problematic from the outset for a variety of reasons, but being a JRPG-centric blog, I'm going to specifically discuss the state of the JRPG during this gen. 

To very briefly summarize in a likely unacceptably reductive sense the prior generations in order to contextualize the seventh gen, the prior gen, (gen 6: dreamcast, ps2, gamecube, og xbox in that order) was what I would refer to as the bronze age of JRPGs if we are going to go by a condensed version of the generations of American comic books as a model. JRPGS had fully made the jump to full 3D graphics, began integrating voice-acting and had even feauted some titles that made the first major moves away from traditional turn-based or active-time-battle-esque combat systems, whether that meant leaning closer to the action-RPG genre or using MMO-esque semi-automated combat devoid of random encounters. 

That was a slightly awkward, growing-pains-ridden period that had, despite the odds, having some pretty strong titles. Still riding the hype and massive popularity/sales of games like FFVII, this specific genre was still a big deal at that point and hadn't quite begun its quick fade into obscurity which happened later in the first decade of the 21st century. The best JRPGs of this gen built on the success of their prior gen and examples include the solid to great FFX and universally hailed Persona 3 and 4, as well as Dragon Quest 8, just to name a few of the most well known  of several strong candidates. These games were about as strong as the best of the previous gen, while enjoying the advantage of much stronger graphical presentation, and potentially deeper systems. The PS1/Saturn generation had some really strong titles in this genre and for some this is easily the peak of the genre, but even if you’re partial to this one the most (which includes the run of FF7-9), you have to admit the graphical limitations led to these games being visually trapped between the more detailed graphics of the next gen and the clean-cut if limited pixel art of the SNES/genesis games (which are the golden age to PS1's silver). Indeed, the Cthonic era of JRPGS (NES/Master Drive and earlier) culminated in an explosion of inventiveness and refinement in games like Final Fantasy 4-6, Phantasy Star 4 and Chronos Trigger, all games that would become the actual gold standard of the genre.

And so without derailing much further, we thus have three straight generations of impressive and semi-consistent JRPGs and development of the genre. This would peter out significantly though, even before the 7th generation began, and the muted reaction to Final Fantasy XII, towards the end of the PS2's life-cycle may have marked a bit of a sea-change. As big, mainstream games like Halo and Call of Duty gained more and more momentum, I think more specialized and more-- for lack of a better term-- Japanese genres and institutions took a bit of a hit around this time. Developers wanted to cater the American and Global market and so big shooters and neu-platform open-worlds like Assassin's Creed had a lot more cache at the beginning of the 7th Gen. I also think that part of the problem was the question of what to do about turn-based combat. As technical possibilities opened up in gaming, the back-and-fourth of true turn-based combat that was previously expected from the genre began to feel more and more archaic. This was partly due to titles like Ocarina of Time or the several strong Action-JRPGs around the time making real-time combat seem like a viable option for deeper role-playing experiences. Alas, there was still a feeling, and for some there still is, that turn-based combat will always be the central tenet of the genre, and that real-time games just don't count. 

In fact, JRPG's themselves reflected the feeling that turn-based systems were passe by openly experimenting with it in the 6th gen. Games like FFXII and the Tales game, as well as Level 5's string of Action-RPGs all feature the depth of systems that RPGs of olden always offerered, while also featuring real-time combat or something close to it (Indeed FFXII featured the pseudo real-time of MMO-style combat, which would be the way forward for other franchises going forward. And so in a way the genre could be seen as undoing what it once was in order to adapt.

But where did that leave it by the time the 7th gen was underway? Well, it practically left it in absentia. This was about a decade after the massive and fortuitous success and sales figures of FFVII (which, considering, it was always strange to me that it sold so well in US. Was that evocative cover with the buster sword, and Cloud looking toward Midgar amidst a clean-white backdrop the sole marketing for that game?). Alas the landscape had thoroughly chanced, and this was before Skyrim would drop. There were over 3 years of 7th gen games before that mini game-changer was unleashed on the world, helping to shift any attention on the RPG that existed at that point in a westward direction. But certain sign-of-the-times moments were abound before this even, like the release of FFXIII to initially positive critic reception which quickly faded to very very scathing reception more generally, almost instantly after initial buzz wore off. What used to be the paragon of the genre had reduced said genre to a largely automated, overly-slick walking-and-fighting simulator, sending the reception of the genre down one long, linear hallway of death and despair. Now this specific gamer actually appreciated a lot of what that game did despite the hate, but I can't deny that the game sucked out a lot of the life of the genre in the way exploration, free-will and customization was either limited or entirely absent. The games a giant anime movie with tons and tons of successive fights. If you like the combat system, which imo was a valiant if slightly superficial riff on the active-turn-based systems of old, this might have been okay, but if you didn't-- and many don't-- then the game was nothing but endless cut-scenes and confusing lore. But hey it was gorgeous, and that's what this generation was all about right? Right...

The very Western focus on graphical prowess and polish was something Square Enix seemed to believe was an essential part of Final Fantasy, and so put more focus on that than, oh I don't know, having anything in the way of a single town or basically any exploration in that game. And this focus on graphics was kind of the story of the gen, save for Nintendo who defiantly snubbed their nose to processing power and went the way of innovation instead (innovation that largely did not include all that many JRPGs...). Speaking of Final Fantasy though, the once titan of the genre took another hit around the time this gen was about to begin when Sakaguchi, the OG creator, left Square to form Mistwalker Studios. This would be a hit for Square as far as many fans were concerned, and even a nail-in-the-coffin for some, but it also meant good things for the genre as a whole. Sakaguchi ostensibly left Square Enix in part due to the increased pressure that management was putting on the creatives there during the fall-out from Spirits Within’s financial failure-- their dalliance in Feautre Film- headed by Sakaguchi himself and the project which caused the company to briefly experience financial free-fall as they hemorrhaged money right up until FFX and Kingdom Hearts turned things around for them in a major way. But the damage was done, and projects at the company would be handled differently going forward. It is a bit ironic then, that Sakaguchi would go on to struggle with management at Nintendo while working on Last Story after returning to the company he previously had left along with Square when they refused to adopt CD-technology a decade prior. Last Story-- the game he made for the Wii-- would still come out as a brilliant answer to the dearth of the genre at the time, featuring inventive real-time combat that put a focus on positioning-based strategy.

Indeed some of the more promising games of this genre during the gen were developed by Mistwalker. Not all are perfect, but their third big effort in Last Story is quite good, and is still a unique and novel example of what combat could be in JRPG's going forward. Their first two games, Blue Dragon and Lost Odyssey, both had tried-and-true turn-based style combat, and felt a bit uninspired, if not unwelcome in a very dry stretch of time for the genre, the former's Toriyama-led art-style giving it the feeling of Dragon Quest 8 and Chrono Trigger. It didn't quite live up to those games, but Lost Odyssey is an interesting entry considering it gives us a glimpse into what FFXIII could have been in some alternate universe where Square stayed Square-Soft forever maybe. 

And so, weirdly, Sony takes a huge hit from Mistwalker's sheer existence, since all three of these games were released on 360 and Wii--consoles that basically had no JRPGs otherwise-- and to top it off, another one-time Sony loyalist Tetsuya Takahashi, who also having left Square earlier in the decade, went on to work on Xenoblade for the Wii, after previously doing the terrific Xenosaga trilogy on PS2. Alas, Sakaguchi and Takahashi may have singe-handedly kept the genre alive with their games, keeping the promise and magic of the golden age of JRPGs alive, if just barely (indeed, both of these men cut their teeth on classics like Final Fantasy 4 and Chrono Trigger). Meanwhile, Sony holds things down with only a couple big JRPGs, among which is Ni No Kuni, an excellent offering from Level-5 and Ghibli which is super solid and yet skews a bit young (as any Ghibli-related project reasonably should), alongside Nier, from the whacky Yoko Taro who had previously released uneven if cult-status-y JRPGs on previous Sony consoles in the form of the Drakengard games. And while Nier, Ni No Kuni, the Mistwalker games and Xenoblade are all solid to great JRPGs, they’re pretty much the extent of the genre this gen-- five measly games, all of which are spread across the three systems unevenly. Indeed, no single console this gen could stand on its own this gen when it came to this genre, with Sony being the old stand-by failing to deliver on that unless you just happened to really love the entire FFXIII trilogy.

  Things we could formerly rely on like Persona, SMT or Dragon Quest were either just straight up no-shows this gen, or were relegated to handhelds. There was Last Remnant on PS3 as well, and I haven't played it, but reception is mixed to negative. All of the other aforementioned games though offer solid experiences, with some sticking to their guns by way of old-school turn-based combat and a few others pushing ahead with new iterations of Active/Semi-Real Time systems (Last Story, Ni No Kuni, Xenoblade), and yet, they are simply too few and far between in number compared to the previous gen. This problem really dogged the entire gen, and was merely symptomatic of the darker turn gaming took around the time, and I'm glad to see things feel like they're headed in a better direction as of late. JRPGs are always the deepest games I play out of the various genres that I fuck with, so my estimation of a console's library is directly related to how many solid JRPGs there are. And while I love the Wii and PS3 overall for what the do offer, they come close to not having enough to offer based solely off their relatively skimpy JRPG offerings. Wii comes out on top for me based only on Xenoblade and Last Story, and sort of Muramasa and Zelda insofar as Vanilla Ware and Zelda games count, but even the freakin 360 might have a stronger offering than PS3, which is a serious problem. 

Luckily, I really do think things are on the up-and-up lately though, with smaller, retro-style JRPGs coming into vogue among other things, giving smaller developers wiggle room in terms of acceptable budget, and big franchises like Persona are finally thawing out of deep-freeze after being a no-count dring the previous gen (save for Catherine), while Final Fantasy and Square in general are enjoying a bit of a comeback (Nier Automata, Nioh and I Am Setsuna all in one year). Alas, Persona 5 showed up finally and just in time to universal acclaim, and the fact that it's a successful and truly turn-based JRPG with a decent budget and progressive, forward-thinking mechanics is very impressive in itself. I think Dark Souls was a bit of a beacon of light last gen, in the way that it showed how a Japanese dev could make a deep RPG in a style that was markedly different from more traditional action-JRPG style, while also drawing on western games like Skyrim in its approach. It seemed to bridge the gap between western and eastern-style RPGs and gave people a reason to hype Japanese RPG developers once again at a time when there were less reasons than ever before. I'm not a big Souls guy, but I really appreciate that it brought attention back to a dying genre at a crucial time. So despite this awkward generation's slightly lacking and inconclusive answer to the question: "what should JRPG's this gen be like?", things may finally be settling back into what just might be described as progress for a genre that some may have thought was down for the count. Perhaps it was a necessary awkward period that has allowed developers working in the genre some time to re-calibrate and reassess the landscape,

Now if only devs could figure out how to resuscitate the 3D platformer--Indeed, If JRPGs experienced a drought during last gen, then the 3D platformer went into a near permanent coma and was basically pronounced dead save for the big, mainline console Mario games that come out every 5-10 years. But that's a story for another day, for now, I still need to beat Persona 5 before Xenoblade 2 drops...