#MARIKA NO NOT IN FRONT OF THE CHILD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greycaelum · 1 year

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Hi ! How are you ? ✨

I love your contenu ! Reading about the Gojo family is so comforting, your blog has become my safe place. 💜 besides, I think twins who look like y/n with their father's character can be super funny 🤣 poor y/n who will have a lot to worry about

I don't know if the requests are open so if they are closed ignore this part : How was y/n officially introduced to the Gojo parents as a wife? We know that the parents were not happy that he broke his engagement with Tachibana but after the marriage with y/n? Marrying the head of the clan makes her someone high in the society of exorcists?

Ps : I'm really sorry for my broken English I'm French and I still have difficulties 🥲

Xoxo ~ Sunny

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters { Wife }

—Gojo Satoru X Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

"Mother..." Your Mother-in-Law stood at the door with a soft look on her face. Neither of you had to say a word to understand what you are feeling.

"You are the wife of Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer of his generation. Do you now understand the power you hold?" She took your hand into her own. "My son would do anything for you, anything. So you have to be strong my child. For your family."

He would raise high heaven and hell for you if you just ask him.

𑁍 Genre: angst, family theme, fluff

𑁍 CW/TW: (1.8k)— Y/n threatening the Tachibana Clan, violence directed not to reader, Marika & Tachibana Clan's punishment

𑁍 A/N: Hi sweetheart! I finally got a small breather since february, thesis defended, exams finished, but we have an upcoming ball and the deadline is killing me, but all is well~ how about you? Awiee thank you very much, it feels like it's been so long since I wrote for the mochis! In a semi-hiatus but this one sounds cute I can't resist. No worries I understand your English very well~✨

I don't think you fully grasp the power you hold.

Wife of the strongest sorcerer. Madame of the Gojo Clan.

It's easy for you to be overlooked because of Satoru. And while for others that could be the power your husband has over you, for you it was a blessing in disguise. You didn't have to associate yourself with political matters, not when Satoru is solely recognized in the Gojo Clan.

But it wasn't a smooth ride. No one would understand until they see it with their own eyes.

Satoru held your cold hand as the two of you ascend the stairs of the huge Gojo Residence. The stairs leading to the main hall where Satoru's parents are waiting seem to be too steep for you.

"Should I carry you? I know your knees are still weak from last night." Satoru teased with a sly grin and a knowing look behind those glasses of his.

It barely eased you but you couldn't hide the blush on your cheeks.

"You better shut your mouth or else I'll castrate you when we get home." You hissed and walked again.

That's right. You have Satoru. You have your husband. You're married and no one else can deny that.

But as you walk inside the large hall, too large for the two people waiting inside, but too suffocating with their conspicuous eyes trained on you.

You could feel your heart drum from the simple move of sitting in a seiza manner in front of them. They don't have to try hard in exuding the aura of indifference and eloquence, something they are born and raised with as an elite family of sorcerers. A clear difference between your worlds apart.

Their world you are not acquainted with.

"Y/n is my wife now." Satoru didn't hesitate to speak. He declared, looking them straight in the eyes. "I will never marry anyone else besides her."

Your heart pounded so hard you swear it would jump out of your rib cage. You know that but it feels different when your husband put it into words. The intensity it holds could shatter and build you up.

His parents didn't even act surprised. Perhaps deep down they already knew this will happen whether they agree or not.

You watch his mother's eyes pass a kaleidoscope of emotions. A mixture of pain, sadness, guilt, and softness. As if she hurts so much for her son.

You greeted them in a heedful manner, taking into account that you are not familiar with them ever since Satoru brought you in his ascending ceremony after breaking off the engagement with their ally clan, the Tachibana. No one may mention it with Satoru present, but you know that it was one of the many things it is hard for his parents to genuinely like you.

"It might not be much but Satoru and I prepared a gift, something we picked together." You held the paper bag, containing rectangular boxes. Inside are wine bottles you especially liked, Valais Mundi Electus and Pinot Noir from Basel-Landschaft.

"You didn't have to bother. But thank you for the gift." Your Mother-in-Law smiled politely and accepted the gift. Your Father-in-Law on the other hand remained silent, arms crossed on his chest.

"There will be a dinner banquet for your marriage. Right now everyone does not know you are already married. It would be uncalled to just have a civil wedding."

It's not hard to spot the unusual and sharp looks thrown in your direction. As if it's a sin to hold your husband's hand, and the glimmer of your rings tucked in your fingers.

Satoru notices this as well. One turn from his head sent them all facing to what they were doing.

None of them could touch you. Neither their dagger eyes nor their desperate nails for an Infinity lies between the only woman he will allow within his high walls, his wife.

He was first worried about you. He knows the clan might be subservient to him as their master, but not to you. One of the reasons he preferred building a home away from the estate is to keep you safe from the malice and hostility of anyone who might dare hurt you.

But everyone has claws. Even his calm and doting wife could be cruel if she needs to be.

Satoru hid behind the partition of the room. You sat on a raised chair and the vast hall was filled with overturned heads of the Tachibana Clan.

"Satoru didn't mention breaking your jaw." You blankly down and look at Marika, pinned down to the ground by her own family. "You should thank him. If it was me, I would sit on a chair and have all your limbs broken one by one."

Marika's mother shut her eyes and averted her head away from her daughter's pathetic sight. Even if you turn it all over around, it doesn't change the fact that this woman has also carried her daughter for nine months only to see her grow vain and miserable.

The whole Tachibana Clan wore white kimonos as if mourning for a person still alive. Or they were probably mourning for their lives.

"This won't take long. I still have a newborn to take care of." You straightened your back in the cushioned chair prepared especially for you. "I'll give you two choices to save your lives so choose wisely."

The room went silent. Everyone was on the edge, the glint in their eyes showed they are anticipating whatever you tell them to do for their lives.

"If you want to save your clan, feed your daughter the poison she gave me until she stops living. But if you want to save your daughter, all of you drink the poison, until you become sterile and die for how long it would take you to. It's a very easy deal don't you think?"

Satoru looks at the aghast faces of the clan, all staring at his wife, calmly sitting with an emotionless face. That was already a light punishment, but he didn't think you would use this kind of method, neither Marika nor the Tachibana Clan will escape condemnation and guilt no matter who survives.

Satoru resisted the urge to laugh. You sound so simple as if their lives is the same as asking how much is the box of eggs in the grocery.

Both two choices are certain demise for the clan. The guilt of making their daughter sterile and die. And all of them drink the poison that prevents them from having any more children, effectively ending the bloodline of the Tachibana Clan.

"But my husband will protect me anyways. Even if you think I'm hiding that doesn't change the fact I will take my due for what your Young Lady did to me and my daughter." The calmness in your voice only irked the men, pathetically kneeling, all too arrogant to kneel before a woman, but too cowardly to face the consequences of their actions.

"You make all this move because you're hiding in your husband's back." Someone snap out of spite.

It didn't faze you, but made you smile with no humor instead.

"Then it is our Young Lady's fault why are you roping us in!" More and more started to rise.

"Shut up!" But they all stopped when the Patriarch roared and look at you, with a final look in his eyes. "I will handle my daughter to your former choice. Just keep my clan safe."

"F-Father?!" Marika cried. Finally the cracks of her mask surfacing. "All my life, I did what you asked me for!"

But it fell on deaf ears. You watch the man discard his daughter. And you just know... What bounds he is willing to keep his clan afloat by hook or by crook.

They can never be trusted. You will remember their faces one by one.

"You can try taking revenge on me, but before you could even dare to take the first move, I will have my husband personally finish what you all started." You took your time to burn their faces at the back of your head. "If you think sacrificing your daughter will relieve you, it doesn't change that all of you are monstrous parasites using each other to satisfy your greed."

You stood up and leave, no one dared to stop you.

You've always thought you could live peacefully. You didn't have to bother with doing any duties in the Gojo Clan because Satoru never asked you to nor do you think you have the qualities to manage such a big and intricate household. But that apathy led you to where? You almost lost your daughter if not for alertness.

"Mother..." Your Mother-in-Law stood at the door with a soft look on her face. Neither of you had to say a word to understand what you are feeling.

He would raise high heaven and hell for you if you just ask him.

Just now, you could dictate the lives of a whole clan with one single word. Only then did you realize, you have to be strong to be the strongest's wife.

"It's a girl." Kouki huffed versus his sister.

"I told you it's a boy!" Saika pouted.

You watch the two fight out what will be the gender of their baby sibling.

"But what if they are twins?" You blink and put a hand over your lips, internally grinning.

Kouki instantly turned pale. Saika on the other hand jumped in excitement.

"I want a baby sister and a brother, looking like Mama." Your little sugarboo giggles, wiggling into your arms for a hug. She put her ears against your stomach which is barely showing yet.

"That's the last right? Mama?" Kouki wore a very complicated look, almost begging you to say yes.

Just in time, the front door opened, with Satoru loudly yelling "I'm home!"

Kouki didn't waste time running to his Papa. Readying his cuteness to take his father to his side.

"This is the last one right Pa? Right?" The mochi whined.

"What last Kikufuku?"

"Last sibling." You supplied for him, taking pity on your son. You ruffled your little princess's hair and ushered to the side, making space for Satoru who put Kouki on top of his lap.

"If it's the last then we should make it a two!"

"Yes!" Saika.

"NO!" Kouki.

Internally you faint just thinking of a twin with Satoru as the father. Boy oh boy, it'll be one hell of a ride for sure.

The callous hand of your husband held yours as he pull down the blindfold and rest his forehead against your shoulder.

You would do anything to keep this home safe and sound.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

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All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey

#kaleidoscope series #c&mchapters #kaleidoscope series y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk married gojo fluff #married gojo fluff #gojo satoru x wife #jjk gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo kouki #gojo saika #greycaelum #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk dad gojo fluff #jjk dad gojo satoru #dad gojo

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miquella-everywhere · 15 days

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"An affair from which Gold arose And so too was Shadow born."

I've been thinking this for a while. What if Godwyn and Messmer were twins? Gold and shadow...

🤔

An excellent thought!

I definitely think that there is going to be some sort of past drama between Messmer and Godwyn. As I said before Godwyns character is in sore need of fleshing out, and since he was initially believed to be the eldest child, but now usurped by Messmers existence, it opens the floodgates for a lot of possibilities!

Could they have been twins? Could Godwyn have taken part in this Graceless purge as well? Was he utterly appalled by this war? Could he have abandoned that war front and instead traveled to the Lands Between with his mother? Was Messmer Marika's favorite because he had the stomach to stay behind and purge the Graceless unlike Godwyn? Or did not even know Messmer, born after Marika left the Realm of Shadow, unaware of his older brother?

So many questions.

#i am stoked to find out more ✨#godwyn the golden #messmer the impaler #uri answers

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mcx7demonbros · 1 year

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Last Act of Mercy (Father & The Brothers)

Ft. Father, the Brothers, Michael, Lilith, Raphael

Warning. Angst. Violence. Murder. Suggestive a bit in Asmo’s part. (Please let me know if I miss anything)

Not completely proofread

“Michael!”

The door to Michael room burst opened as a Seraphim rushed inside, panting.

“What is it that makes you so anxious, Samuel?” Michael asked as he poured a cup of water for the Seraphim.

“Father, I don’t see him anywhere.” The Seraphim said after finishing the cup of water. “Today, when I enter Throne Room, I found it empty of His delightful presence. I don’t know where he has gone. What do we do now?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Michael said calmly after he had heard everything.

“What, but-.”

“Samuel, Father is neither a child nor an frail old man. He’s the Creator of Heaven and Earth and all creatures living within them. He’s the Source of the Divine Light that shines on the Celestial Realm perpetually. Wherever he goes, he’ll be fine. A solid proof is that the Celestial Realm hasn’t been devoured by the darkness of nothingness yet.”

“Oh, right. Thank you for your assuring words.”

“Wherever you are, please be hurry and come back to us.” Michael clasped his hands together and prayed, with Samuel joining him.

Meanwhile, at the Devildom…

A man who seemed to be in His 30s, dressed in white from head to toe, and from Him shone a radiant but gentle white light, was walking through the streets of the Devildom. However, none of the demons walking on the street recognized His presence. Otherwise, things would be very complicated.

He looked at all the things the demons were doing, smiling gently at every good act, and sighing like a human at every bad act and sin.

Though The Man soon moved on, the purpose for which He came to the Devildom today was not to observe the daily life of Devildom citizen, but to see how some of His fallen sons were faring, though He knew perfectly the result wouldn’t be positive.

At a big casino in Devildom…

“Ahahaha, the Great Mammon is the winner today.” Mammon laughed at he showed his opponent and others his cards, and the displeasure expression on his opponent’s face was enough to prove Greed’s words.

“No, you didn’t win. You cheated.” The casino staff said as they grabbed Mammon’s arm and a lot of cards fell from his sleeve.

“You cheater!” Mammon’s opponent shouted at him. “Accept defeat and give me the money.”

However, Mammon did not comply with the rule.

“The money in my wallet is mine. In fact, all money, treasures, riches,… all of them are mine, you understand? MINE!” Mammon turned into his demon form, much to the horror of his opponent, the staff and others. “And no one is allowed to touch what I declare is MINE.”

“Y-you are being unreasonable.” His opponent pointed a finger at Mammon, trying so hard to hide his fear.

“Reasonable! I’m a demon, I’m reasonable only when I want to.” Greed grabbed the head of his opponent’s hair with one hand, and the other hand grabbed the hair of the casino staff. Mammon pulled out their hair along with their head skin before killing them mercilessly. That was only the start as he grabbed other demons by the side and murder them too.

Standing by the side, Father shook his head in disapproval but his eyes looked at Mammon with pity.

The Devildom Royal Navy’s HQ…

“That’s all for my report on our ammunition of the past month.” A demon captain declared every word loud and clear while bowing to the Grand Admiral.

“Alright, you’re dismissed.”

Hearing the words, the captain couldn’t be happier as he excused himself from the overly dominant Envy.

After the captain left, Leviathan locked the door. Envy then turned the TV in his office on.

MARIKA-CHAN AND HER SAUSAGE COMPANION, said the title on the screen.

“Thanks Father I was able to finish everything just in time.” Levi mumbled with excitement.

As the opening began to play, Envy got off his seat and began to dance in front of the TV. Only after the opening ended did Levi sit down on the floor, panting and watching peacefully.

The episode of the week was about how Marika-chan and her sausage companion defeated a monster that breathed out poisonous black smoke and rescued a sea snake from its grip.

“Marika-chan is so cool.” Envy got emotional as he wiped the tear at the corner of his eye.

“I wish Marika-chan were real to save me too…*sigh*…but it’s probably better that she isn’t real. No one likes a gross otaku like me.” Before long, Levi fell back into his self-depreciating abyss.

The Admiral didn’t notice The Man in white sitting beside him all along, watching the film with him and also looking at him with fatherly love.

Father entered a restaurant called Hell’s Kitchen before sitting at a table in the corner, from which He could see an orange head demon devouring tons of food.

“Waiter, I want to order more.” Beelzebub demanded.

“I’m sorry, but you have reached the limit of food allowed for gluttonous demons.” The waiter said.

“I don’t care. My hunger is not satiated, I want MORE!”

“B-but-.”

Before the waiter could say another world, Gluttony just grabbed the demon and tossed them inside his mouth and devoured them. To this sight, the demon manager only shook his head and sighed, saying something like “he’s at it again” before dialing for someone who could take on Beelzebub to take him out of the restaurant.

Father was walking on the street leading to the House of Lamentation when He witnessed a violent scene.

“I-i’m so sorry.” A lesser demon kowtowed to a blond demon, asking for forgiveness after having bumped into him and making his clothes dirty with the ice-cream they had held on their hand just a moment before.

“Sorry? If an apology were all that needed for everything to be brushed aside, I wouldn’t be called the Avatar of Wrath.” Satan said, sounding a little rougher at the end, before he kicked the lesser demon in the face, crushing it. With another but stronger kick, Wrath sent the head of the demon flying before taking the body home, mumbling something about “feeding some demon cats” like a mad man.

After dying at a human, Lilith couldn’t find a way to return to the Celestial Realm so she decided to stay with her brothers out of the immense sibling love she bore for them and haunted the House of Lamentation like a ghost with no one realizing.

That day had been a normal day, Lilith was wandering within the House, like she had been doing for the past 3000 years or so. Hearing the footsteps and the sound of dragging a dead body, she knew it was probably Satan coming home. So she looked at the front yard, Satan was a peculiar sibling to her after all.

Yes, there’s Satan and a body and-. Lilith couldn’t believe in her eyes when she saw a Man in white walking behind Wrath. What’s He doing here?

The moment Father stepped inside the House, He felt a little bit nauseated as He could smell the stench of impurity. The stench let Him to a room with flower decoration.

“OUT!” When Father walked through the room, He saw a fighting scene. Clearly, Asmodeus had just finished giving an incubus what he wanted on bed and now Lust was trying to chase him away.

“Please let me stay the night, Lord Asmodeus!” The incubus got down on his knees and begged.

“That’s not possible, Incubia. You know the rule, once I finished the deed with someone, they have to leave immediately. I’m not letting anyone staying overnight.”

“B-but-.”

“Leave now. OR ELSE.” Asmo’s eyes brightened up as he turned into his demon form.

“Ok, I’m leaving.” The incubus took all his belongings and left the room. In the hallway, he met Satan carrying a corpse. He wanted to yelp but he was afraid it would annoy the Avatar of Wrath so he bit his tongue to keep silence and stay out of Wrath’s way.

Inside the room, Lust turned into his full demon form as he took out a mirror and looked inside it. He looked at it for a little bit before his face turned more human. Asmo admired his human face before turning it back to the face of a beast.

Tears began to appear on the fifth born’s eyes.

“No matter how much make-up I try to put on, my true face is that of a beast. No matter how much perfume I put on and how much I bathe, I could still smell the stench of impurity somewhere on my body.” Asmo mumbled to himself while crying silently.

Belphegor was standing on the deck of the Ark of Noah, which was floating amidst water. Around him lied corpses of Noah and his family, the only people God saved during the Great Flood.

“Ahahaha, I did it. I killed all human and ended this cursed race.” Sloth laughed out loud, kicking and mutilating the corpses further more before sitting down on the floor, holding his face, crying. “But no matter what I do, I can’t bring her back…Lilith…Lilith…”

Outside the dream world Belphegor created to partially satisfy his human genocide desire, the seventh-born was crying in his sleep too, acting the same like his dream self, mumbling the name of his sister.

Father reached out His hand and caressed Belphie’s head. Sloth was no longer crying. In his dream, he found himself in a warm meal with his brothers.

Father stopped by Lucifer’s office to find His once favorite son. The eldest was dozing off on his chair, his right hand is holding a document, while on his left hand a pen. However, his face soon became twisted. He was in nightmare, like what happened in most of his sleep after he fell.

Pride dreamt of that day again. The day he rebelled against Father. The day he lost and fell from the heavenly kingdom, holding his sister. The day he had to kneel and kissed the Demon Prince’s hand as he pledged eternal loyalty to him. The day he saw his sister being taken away forever.

However, suddenly, Lucifer felt a warm hand touching his head and the nightmare scene disappeared. The hand was full of love and gentleness. Pride knew the feeling of that hand very well. He felt it the first time when he was created and he had never forgotten that feeling since.

“Father!” Lucifer opened his eyes, looking around but he saw nothing.

It was probably just a dream. Pride told himself. But the warm of the touch was too real to be just a dream. Pride subconsciously touched his head, just right where the hand of his Father had touched him and he could still feel the gentle warmth.

Lilith saw The Man leaving through the door of the House of Lamentation with no one noticing. Lilith knew that the only one who could help her brothers with their sufferings was their Father. Even though she had a great fear for Father ever since the day of her judgement, the love she bore for her brothers overcame it and the last-born summoned all of her courage and ran after Father. With the speed of a ghost, she soon caught up with Father.

“Father!” Lilith cried as she touched the hem of His white garment.

“Father, I know that both I and my brothers have chosen to stand against Thee and don’t deserve to to look at Thy merciful face. But please, I beg of Thee to take pity of my fallen brothers and grant them an act of mercy. I don’t care what happened to me, even if you take me back to Celestial Realm for the ancient sentence to be carried out.” Lilith begged at she kneeled at the feet of God. “Please just make their sufferings more bearable.”

All the Seraphim were puzzled the moment Father came back.

“Is that the Act of Creation?” One Seraphim marveled despite having seen it before.

“Don’t you think you should be silent when Father is performing such an action of supreme goodness.” Raphael said, with Gabriel nodding in agreement beside him.

“A sheep?” This time it was Michael wondering. On Father’s hand was a pink sheep. However, he soon realized the sheep was something symbolic to hide the true identity of the thing Father had just created.

Father then looked down on Earth and began to look at a woman, your mother, who were in intimate moment with her husband/boyfriend. One of them happened to be Lilith’s descendant. After looking at the future and making sure everything would be according to the plan He and Lilith and made, Father sent the sleeping pink sheep down to Earth, into the woman’s womb and the moment of conception began.

“This is My last act of Mercy for them.” Father said as the Seraphim marveled amongst themselves.

Author’s words

I actually have the theory of MC having something to do with Father and I wanted to write this out long ago. Why I have this theory is because sheep is the symbol for God & His People, as depicted many times in the Bible.

#obey me #omswd #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lilith #obey me michael #obey me raphael #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader

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astrifer777 · 18 days

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Hey hey hey since this is my life now time to do what I do best! Rot my brain!! (Sorry if these observations have been made I've been busy all day)

Okay so this figure is obviously Marika, and when she's shown from a distance she is creating the rune that is representative of her own.

Sorry about the bad images doing all this on mobile :p

which is really interesting that one of the last poses we see her is crucified and I've always wondered how people know about it if they haven't seen her, but it's so similar to the pose she makes at the start of the trailer so I think we have our answer

Moving onnnn

Hey Trina is that you? Yes it has to be. The purple petals, the figure, the weirdly missing eyes we can't ever see (similar to miquella whose eyes have never been shown fully besides in statues)

But the line, the line is what gets me. He would abandon his fate. And when the trailer says this, we see Trina falling , with a dimming light over her. What does this mean? Is his fate to be a rebis like Marika? Is their fate to be one, or are they an aspect of miquella?? Idk I feel lost here, but I do know they are so close together and the base game already confirmed something with the st trina cookbook 3 gives BEWITCHING BRANCHES.

Onto messmer

The more I see this the more I think messmers fire has aspects of the rune of death, especially with the black tendrils that spout from it. Maybe when it was plucked from the elden ring, he gained some version of it he used to purge the land of shadow. I mean... Shadow was made with gold, maybe this is the red that was a part of the elden ring that isn't now.

Although this shit has me questioning it? The tendrils are spreading like a snack towards the city, and the whole place is burning. Later on we see the city itself is... Falling upwards into shadows? Very very interesting.

(the shadow in question)

And finally...

Who is SHE? The pose, the style of it, it gives me a very feminine vibe. I was thinking maybe Marika but why would she be there? I also considered if it was miquella but... also why? It could be the wam who we've seen in other images... But it's too unfocused to find out.. she does the shawl... The strands of hair at the front... Maybe it was her Marika seemingly took the strands from and now she mourns her people who Marika's child is taking from her..? Idk but she is important, and definitely new. Very excited to rot my brains for another month....

(lady in question).

Bye bye bye now! Ramble at you soon :)

#miquellaposting #elden ring #the brainrot is brainrotting #elden ring dlc #sote #shadow of the erdtree #marika #messmer #st trina #random shadow lady?#cool ass armors i will be stealing #god i cant wait #michael zaki why!!!#miquella the unalloyed

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catcas22 · 4 months

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I'm curious, you said that your views on Marika as a character had changed since you started writing Prince of Death. How do you view her now?

Hi, thanks for the ask!

This is going to be a bit unfocused, just warning you up front. I suppose it would be best to start with my initial impression of Marika.

On my first file I was going for the Ranni ending, so I spent a lot of time in Liurnia and got most of my lore from Ranni and Turtle Pope. My initial sympathies were very much with Ranni and Rennala -- so my initial takeaway was that Marika was a tyrant and Radagon was a zealot who chose his religion over his family.

As I gathered more information, I softened on Radagon a bit. He seemed to be an okay father, when he was around. His Liurnian family was clearly devastated to lose him, and Radahn and Rykard still held at least a modicum of respect for him. He was also apparently quite close with Miquella, so he can't have been all bad. As my perception of Radagon shifted from "heartless" to "spineless," Marika slotted neatly into a sort of "Lady Macbeth" role. At this point I assumed that the aims of the Greater Will were synonymous with Marika's aims, so I had the vague idea that Marika had called Radagon home because he was more easily controlled and less of a potential threat than Godfrey.

As I progressed into Altus, I learned about Morgott's childhood and heard Marika's "amounting only to sacrifices" quote from Melina. This solidified my view of Marika as a ruthless queen who saw her children as expendable pawns. While her shattering of the Elden Ring implies that she did feel a degree of attachment to Godwyn, abusive parents do typically have a favorite/golden child. At some point I also absorbed the theory that in calling the Tarnished, her aim was for Godfrey to kill the other shardbearers (or kill their killer) and then free her.

By the time I learned that Marika had been actively working to subvert the Greater Will, I "knew" based on the sacrifices quote that she must be doing it for selfish reasons -- someone who views her own children as expendable surely would never take such a risk for altruistic reasons. That's more or less where I was when I developed the premise for Prince of Death -- i.e., Marika seeking to free herself from the control of the Greater Will, and willing to throw anyone under the bus to ensure her own freedom.

Some time later I was talking lore with @maranull, and she pointed out that the sacrifices quote could be interpreted as a warning, not a threat. In other words, Marika isn't necessarily saying "Remain useful to me or I'll cut you off." She could also saying "Don't mess around with Outer Gods like I did, they'll throw you away as soon as you stop being useful."

This ambiguity opens up a myriad of new interpretations of my Marika data-points.

Was she working against the Greater Will out of pure self-preservation? Genuine remorse? Fear of her children getting chewed up by the cycle she had perpetuated?

Was she the one pulling Radagon's puppet strings? Seems less likely the more I learn. Was Radagon the heartless extremist I originally saw him as? Was he a weak-willed follower, but under the thumb of the Greater Will rather than Marika? Was he a handler meant by the GW to curb the increasingly rebellious Marika, or were they both forced into it?

Did Marika banish her omen sons willingly when the Crucible fell out of favor? Did the Greater Will order the purging of omen, and the best Marika could do was negotiate banishment instead of death for her sons? Did Marika purge the followers of the Crucible for strategic reasons, but couldn't quite bring herself to kill Mohg and Morgott?

Did she banish Godfrey because he was a threat, or because she wanted to preserve a potential weapon far beyond the reach of the GW? Was she already plotting to overthrow her own Order that early in the timeline? Did she know that potentially using Godfrey to slay the Elden Beast would necessitate the deaths of the other shardbearers, her children? Was that her plan all along, or a desperate last resort?

I'm still not sure where I land. She's certainly more complex than I originally gave her credit for. I think there's still a valid reading where Marika is working against the GW for her own sake, seeking to free herself before the cycle turns once more and she goes the way of the Fire Giants and the Ancient Dragons. I think there's still a valid reading where she played favorites with her children, discarding some and loving others only conditionally.

But there's also a valid reading where Marika cares deeply for her children despite her flaws, where she's trying with every means available to her to atone for her misdeeds. There's a valid reading where Marika wants to free the Lands from the GW for the sake of her children, even if that means sacrificing herself.

Honestly, I think both are compelling, and I think the truth lies somewhere in the middle. Marika was not a perfect mother, and she surely made some ruthless decisions where her family was concerned. But you have to stretch pretty hard to say that she didn't love her children, as flawed as that love might have been. Whether you choose to see her as an antihero or a tragic villain, it's the nuance and ambiguity that makes her character so compelling.

#elden ring #elden ring lore #queen marika the eternal #media literacy #it's hard sometimes

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headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne · 4 months

Text

Elden Ring Chain 2, Part 1

This time we did the chain a little differently. Two people got the same prompt, but instead of letting eight people do one chain with eight entries, we split them in two groups. Once the first half was done, the other group did receive the last art piece/fic and continued with it, so we got two chains for the price of one ^^ Please be aware that one of the chains is an entry short, because I, the mod, had to drop out thanks to life circumstances. For now, let's start with the first chain. Prompt: A tale of Godwyn's favoured Servant, Fia

@redsixwing

Title: A Banished Companion

Prompt: A tale of Godwyn's favoured Servant, Fia

Limit: 4k

Length: ~2500

Summary

Fia’s departure from Leyndell is sudden and unwanted, but even after the tragic death of Godwyn the Golden, all is not lost.

Warnings

Very sad. Canon character death.

Notes

In proper Fromsoft fashion, the only concession I’ve made to early English is to use thee/thy for informal speech. “You” is used between strangers or to mark that the speaker is of less rank than the listener.

This isn’t meant to be a full reflection on the role of Destined Death - rather, it’s an attempt to view the effects of Marika’s rage from the outside. In her anger and grief, she shatters more than she knows, and sows the seeds of her own destruction.

Fic Body

Before, Godwyn, demigod ascendant, pride of his family, was called the Golden.

Before, he was the conqueror of dragons, the bosom companion of fearsome Fortissax. He took after his father in charisma and his mother in might. As the only child of the Eternal Queen and the Elden Lord, he was welcome everywhere, favored everywhere. Of course he had enemies, just as She did. Of course the divine family expected his grace and power to protect him.

When the Black Knives came, the accolades and expectations all proved hollow.

***

That bleak morning, Leyndell was in chaos. The gold-and-white banners lay limp beneath black mourning streamers that had not flown since the end of the war against the Gloam-Eyed Queen. The knights were out in force, patrolling the streets in threes and fours and shouting at everyone who stepped out their doors to go back inside.

Fia was in the lower city’s sole Church. All three of the active Deathbed Companions stayed there, along with their Revered Mother. Along with Fia herself, whose apprenticeship had ended so recently that she had not yet performed her rites.

The sanctuary was empty this morning. The Companions, fresh from their morning prayers, occupied a half-circle of chairs before the ornate seat of the Revered Mother. Light poured in the windows and the open door from the Erdtree, brighter than the sun. The plain walls and waxed wooden furnishings made a homelike setting, and the five black-clad figures huddled together, trying to understand what was the matter.

No black-clad messenger came to ask the Companions’ boon. No noble scion or spouse lay grieving on the front steps, begging to have a beloved relative borne back to life. Instead, knights clustered around the Church in ominous silence, and sent groups down the nearby alleys as if searching for something..

“What has befallen us?” The Revered Mother, Sarah, spoke from her chair. “Will one of ye go and ask the knights what it is they are doing?” She looked to rise, but her vigor had faded years ago, and it would not be easy for her to walk even so far.

“Of course, Mother.” Fia rose. Iris, one of the older Companions, followed along behind her.

“Sir knight?” Fia called through the Church’s open door. The nearest one turned, crisp, hand on his weapon.

“Go back inside,” he commanded. “This is no time to be out.”

“What news, sir? Please - we haven’t heard.” Fia stepped obediently back, peering around the door. Iris, behind her, leaned to peer out too.

The knight shook his head. “You don’t know? The Golden lies slain, by some foul-”

Whatever he would’ve said was cut off. With a clap of wings like thunder, the dragon Fortissax cruised low overhead. Toward the base of the Erdtree! The knight ducked by reflex. Iris squeaked and hid behind the door. Fia stepped back into shadow, hand over her mouth. In moments, the dragon was past, the shattering noise gone.

Fia closed the door with a mournful creak of hinges. Iris slumped against it. “No,” she whispered. “It can’t be-.”

Fia crouched by her side, patting at her shoulders. “He is a god,” she said, barely believing. “Yet even gods may die.”

And dead he was.

The Companions spent their afternoon trying to guess what would be next. While Leyndell tolerated Those who Live in Death, it seemed past belief that the Eternal Queen would recommend one of Her own for the ancient, sacred practice when She could grant Erdtree burial instead. And how had the Golden fallen? They, who studied death and knew it intimately, had not known he was close to his ending.

They split for a time, the Companions to their quarters to worry and to prepare. Fia stayed with the Revered Mother, tending to her needs.

A knight came as the sun was setting, tacked a bill to the door under the Golden Seal, and left without speaking a word. Fia retrieved it and handed it to the Revered Mother. A handwritten note was wrapped inside it. When Sarah read it, her face went pale.

“So it is true.” She sagged in her chair. Fia, anxious, moved to pat her thin hand. The Revered Mother said first, in a flat voice: “I am not to show this to you, or share this warning.” She put the first, handwritten slip of paper into a candleflame, watched it crumble to ash, and read the formal bill aloud:

“Mourn, Leyndell! Godwyn the Golden lies slain by a blasphemous conspiracy.

He will be buried in two days’ time at the foot of the Erdtree. His faithful companion Fortissax shall attend his grave, as is the custom among dragons. All loyal citizens of Leyndell may attend ceremonies on the grounds of the Church of the Order. All faithful of the Golden Order are welcome within the Erdtree Sanctuary or upon its grounds.

Fear, traitors and blasphemers! Ye shall bow to the wrath of the Golden Order, and all those who practice the arts of Death shall fall beside ye.

Heed now my words: Never again shall Death sully the Divine.”

Sarah laid the scroll across her knees. Below the final line, the seal of the Eternal Queen glowed golden. Fia stood stock-still, stunned.

“Apprentice mine. My last, precious student.” Sarah grasped both her hands. “Gather the others, now.”

Iris was easy to find in her quarters, reading a book before her long mirror. Shannon was examining his wardrobe. Ciara was at the altar, as was so often the case. Fia called them all together, and the four Deathbed Companions knelt before their leader one final time.

Once again, she read the dreadful scroll. Sarah waited for the gasps and soft cries to finish, and folded her withered hands over her knees.

“My little ones. Faithful Companions all, who have borne so many back to life. This is the last assignment I will ever give ye.”

Iris stifled a sob.

“Flee now, Companions. Flee before the knights come, or Death will hold us all before morning.”

“Revered Mother.” Shannon spoke through a handkerchief of black lace, held over his mouth. “What of you?”

“I will remain.” Sarah lifted her chin in pride, white hair curling over her shoulders. Her beauty had outlasted her vigor.

“May we not stay beside you?”

“Lovely Shannon! Someone must speak for Death, but it need not be thee.” Sarah leaned forward to place a hand on his head. “Flee Leyndell. Go far and fast.”

Only Ciara did not speak, but knelt with head bowed, silent and still. Tears streamed in silent protest.

“Go now, Companions.” Sarah rose with difficulty from her chair, and walked to the door. “I do not know how long we have.”

“Come, Shannon.” Ciara was standing in a flash, holding a hand out. Shannon grasped it and they made haste for the door. Iris followed after.

“Fia? Aren’t you coming to pack your things?”

“No. I’m going now.” Fia looked from her elders to her Revered Mother, and saw pride in Sarah’s pale eyes. Her cloak, her stipend -

Well, she would figure out a way, if only she had her life. There was no reason to believe the knights would hesitate.

“Good girl,” Sarah whispered. “Go with my blessing.”

Fia fled.

***

Leyndell lay unrestful in the evening.

Fia left the Church by an entrance she had used as a child: a gap where the wall did not quite meet a mighty limb of the Erdtree. As a girl, she’d scrambled through that gap to play among the golden leaves. Now, the limb was bare, and she used its bulk to hide from a patrol of passing knights. Working fast, she stripped her distinctive headdress off, tucked it into her dress for safekeeping, and let down her hair. Her Companion’s dress might give her away, but there was no time to change it.

That group of knights formed a loose line around the front of her Church, her home, and paused. Their superior, notable in a golden cloak with the Erdtree’s emblem woven in white, walked the line in approving silence.

Out of sight but not out of hearing, a mailed fist hammered on the wooden door. The hinges gave their mournful creak.

Fia slunk down out of sight, took to the road, and ran for all she was worth.

Within the area around the little Church, all had been quiet. When she reached one of the main thoroughfares, she found it packed with people. In the throng, she was only a pale woman in a black dress, one of many. Some, tears on their faces and offerings in hand, were going to the Erdtree Sanctuary. Others, wearing cloaks and bearing bundles on their backs, were heading for the gates. Knights on horseback tried to control the crowd, to little effect.

Fia put her head down, feeling the lack of her headdress like a pressure on the back of her neck, and stayed as far from the mounted knights as possible. The currents of the crowd would bear her toward the gates, if only she could avoid notice. It was a long walk in the best of circumstances; she guessed it would be hours, if all the roads were so crowded.

Snatches of conversation came to her ears.

“I can’t believe it-”

“Blasphemy against the Eternal!”

“He’s going to prepare their home in Caelid-”

“Who would do such a thing?”

“Heard it was a demigod…”

“That can’t be right.”

“Liurnia is nice this time of year.”

“The Heir is fallen too, didn’t you know?”

“Whole Order is up in arms, it’s war, no mistake.”

“We need to go.”

Dire news, if it was true, and Leyndell gave her no reason to believe it wasn’t. Everywhere, on every tongue, murmurs of blasphemy and conspiracy. The notices were everywhere, posted on doors all through Leyndell. With her heart in her throat and a burning blur in her eyes, Fia wondered how many others had been taken by Leyndell’s knights. She couldn’t let herself think of the Revered Mother or her friends and fellow-students, or she would betray herself and them with her grief.

Grief, and anger. The Eternal claimed that the Gods would never again be touched by death - but was she not a mortal queen, before she took the throne? Was not her consort, father of that so-beloved son, a mortal man? She claimed immunity from something she could not begin to understand! Like anyone, the bereaved mother screamed and beat at the coffin, as if it would bring her son back to her unchanged.

But unlike just anyone, Marika’s fury had consequences. She had, with a stroke of a pen, consigned Fia and all those who she loved to the very same fate she would not admit for herself. Banned the arts of Death! Why, as well she could outlaw Death itself. Forbid anyone to die! And in such ridiculous fashion, doom the whole world to stagnation.

And, insult to injury, strip away the purpose of one woman she’d never met.

Never had Fia lain with a noble; never had she completed the sacred rites and borne someone back to life. Now, she never would. No longer could she call herself Deathbed Companion, if the Eternal had declared all the arts of Death anathema. Would her gifts even work, without the blessed perfume? Without the ceremonial bed in its gorgeous drapery of brocade?

No, she thought. They were components of the ritual for good reason.

She was just Fia, now and always. Just Fia. Just a silent, resentful enemy of the Eternal Queen herself.

Fia passed the gates in a crowd so thick that the knights could not stop everyone, not without spilling blood and making the situation a hundred times worse. When one of Leyndell’s mighty sentinels lowered his lance for a barrier, she and half a dozen others ducked under it, so close the breath of his huge steed ruffled her hair.

“Stop!” cried the knight, but nobody did. To pursue would have been to let even more of the milling crowd flow out. The knight stayed in his place, shouting at the tide of people to slow down.

The golden road across the Altus Plateau lay open. Fia left it as soon as she could and hid. She shivered unseen in a hollow beneath a tree until she was sure the knights were not coming for her.

***

Morning came, and Fia realized she was hungry.

Hungry meant alive. Waking meant she’d slept. Her sore eyes and dry mouth said she’d wept for the Companions, for Godwyn, for herself.

As she’d been trained, she hovered between sleep and awake, and took stock of what was around her. Hard earth below, barely cushioned by fallen leaves. Birdsong, distant. The itch of an insect bite. The shush of rain, falling just outside her leafy shelter.

The sound of someone breathing, very nearby.

Her eyes snapped open unbidden. Every muscle tense, she saw-

Another woman, perhaps twenty years her senior, anonymous in a heavy cloak of thick grey fur. The stranger had shoulder-length hair of an indeterminate shade and appeared no more prepared than Fia herself.

“Shhh,” she said.

Fia, half a heartbeat from leaping to her feet, trembled with the effort of staying put. “Who are you?” she hissed.

“Just another traveler fleeing Leyndell ‘fore it gets any worse. I don’t want to be found any more than you do.” The traveler tilted her head. “So, please- let me rest here where it’s dry.”

“All right.” Fia lowered her head. She couldn’t stop the traveler, and making a fuss would just draw the sentinels down on them both. She was no longer a Deathbed Companion, to cloister herself away. Her home, her friends, her pride, all gone, with Marika’s fury to ensure she would never return.

“Hey,” came the soft voice. “Hey.”

Fia did not look up.

“Is there some way I can help you? I’ve got food, drink. Even a little sorcery.”

“What confidence you have,” Fia managed, in a choked voice.

“Well, I’ve been on the roads before.”

“Then, if you will - let me hold you, only for a moment.” The cadence of her training came back, easing the words. “Share your vigor with me, and I’ll ask for nothing more.”

The stranger smiled, quizzical. “Is that all you want? Well then, by all means.”

Fia uncurled, surreptitiously dabbing her face with a sleeve, and spread her arms.

There in the hollow of the golden-barked tree, she took a confident stranger into her arms. There, for the first time, she felt the rich force of another’s life flow into her body, given by that willing touch.

Even without the rituals, without the blessed perfumes or the embroidered baldachin to hide her from profane eyes, she was yet a Deathbed Companion. The raw loss of her church and title, even her Revered Mother, became just a little more bearable.

She was Fia, Deathbed Companion, and some day, she would bring the truth of Death home to the very gods.

The stranger sighed. “I’ll stay a moment longer.”

“Please,” said Fia, and began once more to don her veil.

*****

Character notes

Sarah: Revered Mother of the Deathbed Companions. Taught all of the current active Companions as well as Fia, the apprentice. ~60 years old.

Iris: eldest Deathbed Companion. ~38 years old. she/her

Shannon: active Deathbed Companion. ~34 years old. he/him

(I hope this doesn’t offend anyone; my hc is that Deathbed Companions are not restricted to women only)

Ciara: active Deathbed Companion. ~29 years old. No pronouns.

Fia: newly made Deathbed Companion. ~18 years old. she/her

Note: Fia may be a diminutive form of “Delphia,” meaning ‘womb’

@shadowsheik14

@mrslittletall

Fia was sitting in the fields of Leyndell, in the shelter of a hollow tree, waiting.

How long had it been since she had been forced to leave her homeland? How ironic it was, that she, a deathbed companion, whose whole existence was to lie with corpses to grant them a second chance at life, was chased away once her own corpse had stirred again, awakening still hugging the noble she had tried to revive back then.

A Tarnished she was now and therefore she had come to the Land's Between, in search of her purpose and soon she had found a purpose.

It could be said that the Land's Between were a broken land... and one of the things that were broken was the concept of death. That had led to a bunch of corpses reanimating, not as Tarnished, but simply known as “Those who live in Death”. Fia had been drawn to them, maybe because she always had laid with corpses and it was in her nature?

She didn't really know the reason, but she knew that she had to protect those beings that were neither alive nor dead... even though the ruling order of the Land's Between, the Golden Order, was very against their existence.

Fia had taken up residence at the Roundtable Hold then, the place at which Tarnished gathered. She had offered her services to the many champions that came along, starved for a gentle touch, and in return taken their vigor. At first she hadn't known who to revive with all this vigor that she had collected, but then she had met Rogier.

Sorcerer Rogier... a very sweet man... who had come to take her services quite often... and then he had talked to her, told her about things that he had found... below the castle of Stormveil...

It was how Fia figured out the origin of “Those who lived in Death”. Their origin, a prince whose soul had been killed but not his body, forever being trapped in a state that was neither alive nor dead...

Fia was sure of it, if she would lay with him, she could change the order of this world.

And thus, she was waiting. Before she could go down to the depths, to fulfil her purpose, she needed her champions once more... it would have been easier at the Roundtable Hold for sure, but she had killed that awful D, that had made it his life purpose to hunt and kill those that she protected... she wasn't able to stay there anymore.

However, her champions were finding her regardless... and soon she was hugging the last of them, taking their vigor. Once they left with the Baldachin's Blessing, she knew she was ready. All of the Tarnished who had her blessing... they would be able to be summoned for her trial, to make sure that the one she had her eyes on would find the child she was about to create.

Soon Fia was waiting again... but this time not for her champions. This time she was waiting for the one Tarnished. The special one. The one that had managed to collect not only one, but several great runes.

Her eyes were on the not yet living, not yet dead body of Godwyn the Golden as she waited. She had it with her, the cursemark of death that had been carved into him... but it was only half of it. A true death had been denied to him. She could only breathe new life in him if he would be fully dead... and for that she needed the help of the Tarnished.

They came, eventually, facing her champions. A variety of all of the ones that she had taken vigor from... even sweet Rogier was there... even though the deathroot eventually got to him, his phantom was still helping her out, that was how sincere he had been about helping her and “Those who live in Death.”

And after the Tarnished had bested her champions, proving to her that they were strong enough, she braced herself. For there was no guarantee that they would help her... If they would cling onto the teachings of the Golden Order, Fia would accept her death at their blade...

So she asked them a question. She directly provoked them, telling them that they intended to deny her and her children. Their answer, however, surprised her.

No, I want to be held.

So she held them and whispered to them, she told them about the hallowbrand, that there had to be the second half of it anywhere, somewhere... and they left and Fia was left waiting again.

It might have felt lonely for anyone but her. She was used to lying with the dead, the ones who didn't talk, didn't even know she was there. The solitude felt like a part of her, so it barely bothered her that she had to wait... even though she never knew if the Tarnished came back, but a part of her just knew that they would come back.

After all, in a Land as cruel as the Land's Between, which warrior didn't crave to be held?

And just as she had predicted, they came back, carrying the other half of the cursemark of death. She didn't know how they managed it, how they found something so small in a land so big, but she thanked them nonetheless. With one last hug. They were her true champion and she made sure that they would know about the child she was about to bear inheriting their warmth...

And so, Fia laid with Godwyn. After he was finally granted a proper death, she could use all the vigor and warmth that she had collected from the champions and raise him as the lord of the dead. After a good while, her child was born... the beautiful rune of death. Now the Tarnished only had to claim it... but Fia couldn't talk to them anymore. Laying with Godwyn had taken a lot out of her and she had to rest... only her dreams were telling her what was going on...

The Tarnished came indeed back, but before they could claim the rune, a dragon was in their way... ah, the Lichdragon Fortissax, an old companion of Godwyn... but of course the Tarnished managed to overcome this challenge and they could claim the rune.

Fia wished for them to become the Elden Lord, that they would make it possible for “Those who live in Death” to not be hunted anymore, so that they might find peace...

That was the last time Fia ever sensed the Tarnished... in fact, the last thing she managed to notice was a voice that she thought had been quieted by her... and this armour set and... the sword...

Fia was helpless against the revenge of this figure that looked like an exact copy of D. But it was fine... she had done her duty. The rune of death had been created. The Tarnished had taken it and would integrate it into the Elden Ring... She felt like she was ready to leave now...

Because what greater blessing could there be, but to be born a Deathbed Companion?

@palepious

@sputnstuff

INT-DARKROOT DEPTHS A stone coffin opens up near a white river surrounded by dark roots ancient ruins and an overbearing stench of death and decay that welcomes the Tarnished to this strange new land. Leaving the coffin, the wanderer stares in awe at the sight of a kingdom long forgotten, like something was built on top of it and it had no choice but to sink further into the underground.

Who were the people that used to inhabit these forgotten structures and how did they lived? Those were some among the many many questions that the Tarnish asked themselves as they crossed the ruins, went up a root path leading to a cliff and reaching a stone archway leading to a massive open area where the stench of death and decay is stronger than ever. The Tarnished at first hesitates in entering due to not only the smell of death, but also due to a much bigger factor: A massive deformed body, twisted and tangled up on dark roots catches the Tarnished’s eyes as they tremble at the sight of it. After taking quick breaths in an attempt to gather courage, they go in, still trembling at the sight in front of them and hand on their weapon’s hilt ready for whatever that comes next.

The Tarnished’s caution was well founded for within the open area, some spirits made their appearance and started to attack the lost knight, with one of them being a familiar face. It was Rogier, the sorcerer the tarnished met at Stormveil castle and who perished due to the deathblight he caught there. Despite the familiar face present in front, the Tarnished unsheathed their longsword and one by one, each spirit that was protecting the area, including Rogier himself, fell to the knight’s blade. Rogier didn’t seemed to have recognized the Tarnished, but they knew him and driving their longsword to the sorcerer’s chest left the Tarnished sad for a couple of seconds before returning their attention towards a new spirit that has emerged, one wearing a massive steel hat shaped helmet, a round chest piece and using a rapier as his weapon of choice. His weapon attacks were fiercer than any of the other spirits that were summoned to protect the area and the magic he used had the same feel as the area the fought, one of heath and decay concentrated within each bolt cast.

This was the tougher battle the Tarnished had to deal with, but after many back and forth, after lots of blows traded, the knight of the massive steel hat falls and the Tarnished comes out victorious, falling on their knees, gasping for air and breathing in the stench of death and decay that surround this large open area.

After catching their breath, the Tarnished stood up and walked towards the massive deformed figure, only to find a familiar face, one whose skin is as pale as a bone, whose dress is as black as the night sky, one whose stare is as fierce and cold as death itself. It was Fia, the tarnished who once resided in round table hold and who left of her own accord after the death of the knight D.

FIA: Ah...there you are. I knew you would come. What is it you intend? To deny us, and our ways? Like the dogmatic brutes of the Golden Order?

The Tarnished, who is visibly tired, walks towards the lady. Their arm is dragging their longsword down, too tired to wield it properly. Their feet drag through the ground, too tired to lift them. Then they fall on their knees and stare at Fia’s eyes. Their eyes, covered by their helmet, can’t hide the sadness and exhaustion they endured up until now.

TARNISHED: Fia, I have travelled far and beyond only to have stumbled upon this place. Never would I have thought to find you here of all places. Your missing presence was felt for too long, I wish to be with you, I wish to stay at your side forever.

Fia’s eyes widen in awe at the Tarnished’s words. It’s almost like they were asking her hand for marriage.

FIA: I am the guardian of Those Who Live In Death. Iam called a foul and rotten witch by many. Yet you…

Fia Is suddenly interrupted by the Tarnished grabbing her tightly around her as their head rests on her cold shoulder. The arms, unable to control their strength, wrap Fia with the strength of one who crossed a desert and found a source of water. The grip of the Tarnished’s fingers is felt as they grab her shoulders with the strength of someone who’s been starving for too long.

FIA (Subtly Surprised): You are an odd one indeed. But your warmth is just as comfortable as it was when I fist held you.

Saying that she wrapped her arms gently around the Tarnished. One hand behind their back and the other behind their head. The gentile hug of Fia is a massive contrast when compared to the Tarnished, more similar to a caring mother or a grieving widow, and just as honest as the Tarnished’s hug who starts trembling, as if they’re crying.

FIA: I don’t wish to ruin this lovely moment, but I have a request for you.

The Tarnished raises their head and looks at Fia’s eyes.

FIA: Many who live in death also live in fear of the Golden Order and its brutes. What I ask, I ask because you have more than earned your place as a champion of the unfortunate. Fia caresses the Tarnished’s helmet that covers its face.

FIA: Once you become Elden Lord, I ask you to replace the Golden Order, so that we who live in death can roam freely in these lands.

The Tarnished looks at the massive deformed figure above them and then at Fia, giving her a simple nod. Fia, satisfied with the answer, puts her other hand on the Tarnished’s head and approaches her head towards the Tarnished’s.

FIA: I will never forget this act of kindness, my lord. Lord Godwyn and I will forever be grateful for your kindness.

Saying that, Fia removes the Tarnished’s helmet and kisses them on their lips.

@patchesenthusiast

@dbzespio

The Kaiden sellsword heaved a breath, dragging his latest kill through the sand.

Something at the edge of his vision glittered, but he paid it no mind at all. He knew he needed to devote what little energy he had left towards trudging his way back to his meager camp, for his heavy boots still struggled slightly within the shifting sand. Every step forward was a wearisome challenge, despite his eagerness to return and quell his still-growling stomach. Admittedly, if it weren’t for the emptiness within his gut, he surely wouldn’t have even found the motivation to leave his little campsite in the first place. Not that it truly provided him much shelter at all; he hadn’t even a spare blanket to his name. But at the very least it was out of sight from those monstrous crabs...

Pausing only briefly to catch his breath, he set his tiny bonfire alight using one of the firebombs he had tucked away for safekeeping and promptly tossed his lunch over the flame. The man glanced up towards the sun with a grimace; ‘twas only noon, and here, he had eaten a second breakfast mere hours ago. Stifling a sigh, he collapsed to a seat beside the fire, his eyes only barely open enough to watch his crab cook.

He ran a hand over his heart.

Ever since receiving that Baldachin’s blessing…

He grew ever more hungry and weary by the day. Would it ever end?

But still… he frowned, considering.

No, it was all worth it.

For Fia, he would bear it. Would do anything.

It was odd, though.

Admittedly, he had never felt such for anyone... aside from his sweet wife, in the short years they had spent together. Her life had been taken by wolves, back when their homeland had first become ravaged by ever-worsening conditions. Even he, hale as he was, was eventually forced to flee, with the soil unable to sustain him and the creatures of the wilds growing yet deadlier as time passed.

He felt no love for Fia, certainly not like that which he had held for his dear wife, but he could not deny that there was something there. Something he couldn’t quite describe, but rather, felt, deep within his very soul.

She made him feel… Even now… his soul felt... alight.

Fia. And it was all because of Fia.

He rose uncertainly, kicking sand over his fire. His lunch was not quite finished, but such trivial things could certainly wait.

Yes, he truly wasn’t quite so hungry now, and, yes... he needed to see her.

His steps light, he rushed along the shoreline, and, somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized all the terrible creatures were gone; the beach was laid bare for him. For them.

But such things truly didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it was all because of her. Fia.

He soon reached a little grotto, a place he would never have noticed, were it not for her and her subtle guidance, reaching out to him, as if he were within a dream.

“Fia…?” he called, his voice uncertain, and quiet, so as not to disturb the inherent peace of the place. He could practically smell the incoming rain in the air, but the heavy clouds still allowed for a tender light to spill through. For the delicate foliage in her hair nearly appeared to be shining, or perhaps... ‘twas merely his fondness for her shining through instead.

She was seated just within the mouth of the cavern, and he could see her face, pale and bright within the fading light. That was when he realized: he had never before seen her face. She was always shrouded, her features hidden away beneath her cloak. And now he knew for certain: she was even more beautiful then he had ever imagined possible.

“Fia…” he whispered and abruptly noticed tears upon his cheeks.

Wordlessly, she held out her arms to him, her expression unchanging from a gentle smile. She already knew; how he felt, how they fit together, in that certain way only they could.

He felt himself collapse to his knees before her, tears still streaming from his eyes. “Fia…”

She guided him into a loose embrace, and he felt himself collapse upon her more so than return the gesture. A sob caught his throat. “Fia…”

“Thank you, my dear…” she whispered, turning her gaze towards the sea.

For soon he would be waiting for her... among the waves

@fateoftheundead

#elden ring #elden ring chain 2 part 1 #elden ring fia chain #elden ring fanart #elden ring fanfiction

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toweringclam · 3 months

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Who is Godefroy? FINAL

So a while back, I started a series where I tried to puzzle out who Godefroy the Grafted actually was. I got a bit lost in the weeds and burned out before I could come up with a coherent theory, but it turns out the answer was stupidly simple and sitting right in front of me the whole time. And the story of Godefroy is a key to understanding all of Marika's offspring.

Godwyn, Godefroy, and Godrick are brothers

If there's one thing that's incredibly important for understanding Elden Ring lore, it's patterns. The same motifs will repeat again and again, and if something doesn't seem to fit the established pattern, it's probably worth a second thought.

One thing that seems to be accepted without question is that Marika's children with Godfrey were Godwyn, Morgott, and Mohg. But the problem should jump out at you immediately: every other group of divine siblings have names that start with the same letter. The pattern becomes even more apparent now that we have Messmer, presumably Miquella and Malenia's brother. This adds some new rules. Assuming this is replicated across all her offspring, the pattern is:

Three siblings

All start with the same letter

Twins and a spare

That brings me to:

Rykard and Radahn are twins

While they're never called twins, looking at their portraits side by side, it becomes pretty obvious.

Their different sizes could easily be explained by something like twin to twin transfusion syndrome, a concept very familiar to fans of the Locked Tomb series. We have the overgrown twin and the withered twin, plus their sister Ranni. We now have a pattern.

Melina is Mohg and Morgott's sister

This just leaves Melina, the potential Gloam-Eyed Queen. The strangest of Marika's children. May seem odd since she looks so young compared to them, but remember, she's a spirit. Her body was burned long ago, so there's no reason for her to age. That puts her in the second batch of demigod children, likely around when the Erdtree was burned for the first time.

The Grafted Twins' were born first

In fact, the age thing is a major clue to the timing of the Grafted Twins' birth. They are old and wizened in a way that none of Marika's other children are. If they are Marika's offspring, that must mean they were born before she gained control of the Elden Ring. The first child she bore under the new order was Godwyn the Golden, perfect in every way. More than anything else, this represented a shift in power.

The Golden Lineage is Godfrey's own

In all the Golden Lineage items, there isn't a single mention of Marika. Go back and look. Godfrey is mentioned, but not Marika. Rather than saying that this means she wasn't involved, i think it represents the shifting power from Elden Lord to God (or whatever Marika's position was before). There's barely any mention of Placidusax's god, so the title must not have been that important back then.

The M's are Marika's own

Following Marika's ascension, she started to wonder if she even needed Godfrey anymore. So she started to experiment. She sent her other self Radagon to Caria and used the power of the Crucible to create children on her own. The result was the warped Omen Twins and Melina, the Gloam-Eyed Queen.

Godfrey, Chad that he is, loved these divine bastards as his own, as seen when he gently cradles Morgott. This compassion was even extended to the children of Radagon, as Radahn shows great admiration for him. But Marika wanted her Empyrean offspring, so he had to go. She called back her other half and had another batch of kids, two (three?) of which came out as Empyreans.

I'm getting tired and rambling, so in conclusion:

Godefroy is Marika's first-born. Godwyn was just the first-born of the Golden Order.

#radagon of the golden order #mohg lord of blood #mohg the omen #morgott the omen king #Godefroy the Grafted #godrick the grafted #elden ring #shadow of the erdtree #elden ring lore #godwyn the golden

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bloodyknucklesforme · 1 year

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Carnal | Interlude No.2 | I was Born with a Healthy Appetite

Nina had always greeted Death like an old friend

CW: graphic violence, cannibalism, gore, child death, suicide This is a cannibal/horror AU Title Credit: Drown by Marika Hackman

Death was a family friend. Always coming around at inopportune times just to remain unforgotten. A familiar face but never one she could bring forth to memory at command. A cold, slippery kiss to the cheek and a boney hand holding her shoulder.

She first met Death two days after birth. Her mother had gone septic after severe hemorrhaging. She didn’t remember it but her father made sure she never forgot. She came into this world tearing apart flesh. She had a photo, an heirloom locket, and a book of English poets - all her mothers. Given to her by her father. All death had given was an engraved stone, now overgrown.

She met Death again as a child, age ten. She had one friend, Audrey. A sweet girl with green eyes and a gap between her teeth. Audrey would hold her hand as they walked around the surrounding fields and forests. Nina had a nasty habit of biting the skin around her nails and Audrey did her best to keep at least one hand unscathed.

There was a stream they’d always cross. They’d sit and take off their socks and shoes and run through the cold water. It was early Spring and it had been raining all week. Audrey slipped on a mossy rock. Her skull cracked open and leaked out like an egg. Nina held her hand and pulled her up the embankment. Audrey lay in the grass with Nina sitting next to her. She remembered kissing her head, hoping that it would fix everything.

It was dark before she could hear her name being called. It wasn’t even her father’s voice. It was John Price’s, her father’s favorite sergeant at the time.

“Nina! Can you hear me? Nina! Audrey!” She hid her face from the flashlight he was waving about. “Jesus christ…”

She’d gone feral in one afternoon. Biting, scratching, and screaming as he pulled her away from her friend. He’d wrapped her in his jacket like a wild animal and held her to the ground till others could come. He held her as they walked out of the woods. He held her in the back of the ambulance as she was looked over. As she heard Audrey’s mother scream when they told her that her only daughter was dead.

He carried her home, the short walk through the village. Her father was waiting in the drive. She was handed off to him. She remembered it was reluctantly. He barely held her, letting her down just over the threshold and having her nanny, who would be fired the next day and blamed for the whole incident, take her upstairs.

Price had always looked up to her father before that day. Now he looked at him with disgust. She had wished he’d never taken her back. She would have much preferred to be left in those woods forever.

Thinking back he was so young too. Younger than she was now. Twenty-two maybe. He was a more devoted father figure than her real father ever was. He’d always been brotherly to her anytime they saw each other. Sneaking her sweets and making jokes. He took a more protective role after that day. He checked in regularly, he always brought gifts, he was the one to answer all her questions about life, and he’d try to answer when she called no matter where she was in the world.

He was the first person she called after her father’s suicide.

That abrupt visit from death. She was nineteen. Despite being nothing more than acquaintances she still made him breakfast for his birthday. She didn’t even notice the gun in his lap as she set his plate down in front of him.

“Happy birthday, Daddy,” She had smiled. She sat on the opposite end of the table as she always did. He said nothing, as he always did.

“Nina?” There was a click, the sound of the hammer being pulled back. She kept her eyes on her lap.

“Yes?” He was going to kill her, she was sure of it. Her condition was always a matter of tension between them. He wasn’t afflicted but seemed to know the basic treatment. She took her supplements and ate large amounts of protein at every meal. He’d protected her this far. Made excuses when she bit other children or the stray adult. He pulled her from school to keep the questions away. He taught her to hunt her own food and installed the freezer in the basement so she’d always have food even when he was gone for long periods.

He couldn’t be there forever. Sooner or later he’d get killed in action or get sick or get in a car accident or something else. Maybe it was a mercy.

The prior summer a local farmer’s ewe had given birth to a two-headed cyclops lamb. Two mouths, two ears, and one giant eye shared between the two. It could barely walk, left stumbling around its mother’s pen. It was a miracle it had survived till morning. The farmer had taken it away and shot it.

She’d run into him as he buried it. On one of her daily walks, Adurey’s death had been little deterrent from her wandering.

“Its mother can’t help it. Did the best she could but it’s not her fault the poor thing came out wrong. Luckily another ewe had twins so I’ll switch them out. Better this way for the little feller.”

Tears fell onto her lap. Her nails cut into her palms. She waited for the end. She hoped Price wouldn’t be the one to find them. He was really her only friend. He wasn’t a stranger to death, they were colleagues in fact. She just didn’t want him to find her half decayed with her breakfast still on the table. She hoped he didn’t fuck up her face when he shot her.

“I’m sorry,” her father said.

She jumped at the bang. The gun hit the floor with a heavy thud. Her father was slumped over. Blood and brain looked almost floral against the green wallpaper behind him.

She didn’t scream or cry. She bit down on her tongue till blood filled her mouth. She let it linger and stain. If she didn’t she wouldn’t be able to control herself. She was quiet as she went upstairs. Her phone in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. Outside, she sat on the front steps and called Price.

“Good morning, Nina.” He sounded cheerful. She hated that she had to ruin his breakfast as well. “How’s the old man? Fifty-five today, right?”

“He shot himself.” There was a pause on his end.

“I’m on my way.”

She was sitting on the front steps, cigarette in hand when he pulled up an hour later. He handled everything. Called an ambulance, set up his funeral so he got proper military honors, and even paid for a company to come in and clean up the dining room.

She was sitting on the front steps again, six years later. A mouth filled with blood and a dead man in her bedroom. She lit a cigar she had stolen from Price and called him.

“Nina? Is everything okay?” That’s how all their conversations started if he knew that Arthur was in town. He’d been practically begging for an excuse to punch his teeth in. She hated to ruin his evening by telling him it wasn’t an option anymore.

“Arthur’s dead.”

“How?” He sounded surprised, a touch angry too.

“He hit me.” And she’d ripped his throat out.

“I’ll be over as soon as I can. Don’t call the police. I’ll handle everything.” He would fix everything. Just as he always had.

“Okay.”

“Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you.”

She smoked the cigar, hoping the scent would overpower Arthur’s. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered so much it was hard to smoke. She stubbed out the cigar and left it in an ashtray in the living room.

She stood in the doorway of the bedroom. She’d have to rip out the floorboards or get a rug. She hoped his blood hadn’t leaked to downstairs. She really did hate the smell of bleach. It had been years since she had something this fresh, this raw. He was still warm when she bit him again.

Death wasn’t a friend anymore but simply a reflection in the mirror.

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree

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#call of duty #carnal #modern warfare ii #call of duty fanfic #Captain john price

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