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sfwregressionfanfictions · 1 year

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Fred Weasley x Little! Reader x George Weasley: Unjust Punishment

Summery: When umbridge takes a punishment too far, the twins look after the reader and come to a few realizations. (GN)

w/c: 1654

TW: Negative selftalk, punishment, pain, crying, umbridge (She’s a whole trigger herself), and George and Fred being amazing Caregivers! This is a first-person fanfic, idk why I decided to write it like that but I did.

God, I am so pathetic.

I couldn’t even make it back to the dorms, I am sat in an empty hall pressed to a wall crying. My hand hurt so bad and all I could do was cry wanting someone to make it stop. I was regressing at this point.

Maybe I wasn’t designed to be big in these situations. As long as I could remember if I had big emotions or something bad happen, all I could do was go small. I was like a defenseless hummingbird in those situations. My brain interpreting all interactions like a child would.

I was too caught up in my own thoughts to notice the redheaded twins that were in the year above mine. They were walking together to do, only Godrick knows what, when they stopped in front of me. They immediately stopped chatting and laughing, casting glances at one another. They shared a look that said “are they?” or “Should we?” or even “Were we right?”.

Their glances quickly stopped and they began talking, Fred taking the lead, “Hey (Y/N), what’s wrong? What happened?”

The pair slid onto the ground on either side of me. I stared at his freckled face and brown eyes before turning to George and doing the same. They had different freckle patterns and the way they let their eyes and face rest were different, it was easy to tell who was who. I turned back to Fred to speak, “Umbridge!”

George and Fred spare a glance, apparently the word didn’t come out as clear as I was hoping it would. Each began pulling a hand towards them, I was quick to snatch them away. I was embarrassed of the words etched into my skin, I was embarrassed that I was regressing right now in front of two upperclassmen that I wasn’t close with.

“Hey, It’s okay, we just wanna help! We can get those cuts all cleaned up!” Fred said, tilting his upper body to fully face me. He wasn’t subtle in his attempt to see what had me pulling away from help.

George took a different approach, he was stroking my hair, and took to whispering how brave I was. He said, “You made it so far from her office, almost to the dorms, you are so brave and strong. Bet you got introuble for fighting a dragon and winning, hmm?” He paused to squeeze my arm, as in to feel my muscles. I giggled through my tears, “Yeah, so strong. Maybe we could clean you up like squires would, since you are big and strong like a knight.”

I nodded before realizing he was talking to me like he knew. I pull on his shirt lightly to get his face a little closer and whisper through my tears, “How did you know?”

Fred must have heard cause he answered instead, “Cause we play close attention to you, little one.”

That was a nice nickname. I like it. Freddie began to stand up, I always forget how tall they are. The had to be at least 6’3. They made me feel tiny, their slender frames made them look even longer. Georgie stood up too.

George spoke when I didn’t stand up, “Do you need help standing up?”

Fred didn’t give me a chance to answer before asking a follow up, “Do you want one of us to carry you?

“Yesh pease,” I was too small to walk well by myself and being carried seemed less embarrassing than stumbling and crawling all the way to the gryffindor common room (Even if you aren’t that house they are taking you there to take care of you).

Fred and George nodded, Fred picked me up like I weighed nothing. Like I was tiny! I giggled, my tears were still dripping, however less and the pain was easy to ignore with the pair taking care of me.

George walked behind Fred, tickling me or playing peekaboo. He was doing all he could to keep me distracted from the pain. Or from how far the walk to their dorm was.

When the fancy lady in the painting finally let us in, they made quick work of the magic that prevented the different students from entering the wrong dorm. Georgie opened the dorm door to their shared room. Fred carried me over to his bed before gentle throwing me onto the bed, his hands remaining under my armpits to keep me from falling or getting hurt.

“Fly!!!” I giggle as I stopped bouncing, the pain in my hand remained but the twin gently taking care of me made me smile. They would be the best daddies ever! My giggles quickly stopped at the thought, they probably want to get my hand fixed so I will leave… I look over to see George with a first aid kit, this cemented the bad thoughts. They were just good people and they don’t like me even a little. Tears prickle my eyes again, watching George open the kit.

“Oh baby!” Fred caught my attention, “Why are you crying? Is the kit scary? It’ll hurt a little at first but we have to clean up your hand and get it all wrapped up.”

Fred was quick to sit down, and pull me into his lap, he waited to see me nod before placing my down on his lap. ‘He was like the knights from my story! He was kind and shiv- Chivo- Nice, he was nice.’ My brain was getting more and more fuzzy, they were babying me and treating me so nicely, but also I was in pain and I knew they were going to leave me alone!

“Baby, can you use your big kid words to say whats wrong?” Fred asked, bouncing me on his knee. He was rubbing my back and holding me to keep me safely on his lap.

I couldn’t keep the truth to myself, I threw myself into his chest and buried my face into his neck. I cried out, “Don wanna fix! Den hab to weave!” (Don't want my hand fixed, then you are gonna leave me!”

“Oh Baby,” The voice came from George, as he placed the kit down and sat next to Fred and I. His hand found the back of my head and pet it soothingly. He spoke again, “We will stay as long as you will let us. We want to take care of you and protect you. How about we spend the night hanging out after we get you fixed up and when you are big tomorrow we can talk about what happens next?”

With slow blinks, realization of all the words formed. I spoke again, “Sweepover?”

“Yes, a sleep over. We will put on a muggle thing called a movie! We have a projector! We will make you some snacks, and we can play and cuddle! Whatever the little (Prince/Princess/Royal) wants!” Freddie confirmed, kissing my forehead.

“Now, we do have to get that hand wrapped up…” George said, moving towards the first aid kit again. His hand leaving my hair, and Fred moved me so I was facing Georgie. I look at the wipe in his hand and realize the pain I was about to feel. Luckily George was quick to hand me a ‘beanie baby’, it was a kitty.

Fred started rubbing the stuffie into my cheek, tapping it around my face, and made it do funny voices. George was quick to clean my hand, Fred continuing to distract me. My hand was soon wrapped in a boring white bandage wrap.

Georgie scooped me up once he was done with putting away the kit. I was giggling and squeal. Freddie moved to set up the projector and some snacks. George said we could push the beds together and make a giant fort! I put my hands on the bed and tried to push but i couldn’t. George pushed the bed like it was nothing, he was like a super strong daddy!

George hung some sheets to make the fort while I got to put stuffed animals, pillows and anything soft I can find. Fred and George have a lot of soft stuff, I think they were summoning stuff for us. Once it was done, George and I jumped into it, bouncing slightly.

Soon a moving picture appeared on the wall and a cart of snacks was pushed to the side of the fort. Georgie left space in the fort for it. The view of the moving picture was soon blocked by Fred jumping into the fort, he landed right on me! At first I though it was cause I was super strong that I was’t hurt when he landed on me, but I soon realized it was cause he was holding himself up.

As the movie played, my eyes start to droop. I didn’t mean to start falling asleep, but it was so comfy being nuzzled in the cuddle puddle. My thumb started moving towards my mouth on its own, soon I was suckling on it. Fred and George were whispering to each other, I wasn’t able to make it all of the words.

Fred said something about ‘won’t do’ and George said something about ‘get something for-’. I nuzzled my face into whoever was on my left.

“You are one sleepy baby, aren’t you?” George said, so thats who I was nuzzling.

“Good night little one, you need to get a good night rest to heal quick.” Fred said, petting my hair again. A quick pressure was pressed to the side of my head, it was a sweet kiss that made me feel so cared about.

I was very small and about to fall asleep, I murmured out a “Nini dadas.”.

Unknown to me, the twins looked at each other with huge grins. They wanted to jump around, high-five, or scream. However, the pair simply nodded and whispered about tomorrow.

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psychedeliccc · 7 months

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body and soul.

warnings : none

(Based on a request by @kiyoomean)

word count : 1.3 k

Masterlist ★

Whispers travelled throughout the walls of the common room along with the scent of an experiment gone wrong. Admist the night the moon above shadowing the floor filled with viles and potions.

"Bloody dark out here. " you heard a familiar groan echo.

"I can help. " You spoke, breaking the quiet silence that followed the boy's voice, the feeling of hope running throughout your blood.

"Who the - sure, whatever go on. " you heard him murmur.

you walked, rather, floated across the room to carry a lamp beside him to help him.

Except,

Well,

you couldn't.

"Wait I can't, there's a lamp to your left. " you sighed realizing your transparency.

"Thanks." The boy whispered as he reached for his left and caressed his palms around it, opening the lid.

He lit it.

A pause.

He hollered.

You saw him flinch as he covered himself with his arms.

"Why are you yelling? Never seen a ghost before?"

He looks back.

He sighs.

"Of course I have, just...never...you. "

You paused and realized this was someone you had seen not less than a few hour let alone spoken with.

"Mattheo is it? "

"How'd you know? " Mattheo replied, a bit frightened, taking a step back.

"We've literally spoken a few hours ago -

my name is y/n. " you uttered, giving him a blank stare.

"Hard to recognize you with all that lack of color. " He joked followed by an anxious titter.

" I need your help. "You ignored his comment.

He sighed.

"with?" he asks as he walks forward slowly.

"You might be wondering how I got myself in this situation. " You continued.

"it does concern me now that you mention it. "

He recalled as he stared back at you.

You scoffed.

°°°°

"Merlin." Mattheo faltered as he scratched the back of his neck.

"- and I need your help resurrecting me from the dead. " you finished.

" how do you you expect me to do that exactly? "

"That's where your physical mobility comes to my advantage. " You smiled.

"Great, meaning you know exactly how to do it, you just need to instruct me? "

"Well, about that. " You stuttered.

"You don't know, do you? - mattheo sighed,

Why can't you just ask Dumbledore tomorrow? " He continued.

"If I am unfortunate enough, I will be seperated from my physical body and remain a... well in this case I'd say a ghost. "

"Let me get this straight, you even manage to get yourself in a situation where you 'accidentally' kill yourself and find a poor random stranger with the hopes of looking for water, and ask him oh so very spontaneously help you revive your decayed soul? " mattheo blanked, looking at your floating body.

"you're completely off, I didn't kill myself nor did I intend to, I was practicing spells for the sake of reviving a already dead Spectre.

" Oh and, be careful, my body, well physical body is right behind you. Mind you. " you interrupted.

Mattheo jumped as he looked to his back, accompanied by your dead corpse laying on the cold floor of the common room,

you looked dreadful really. No wonder he jumped.

"This is going to take all night. " Mattheo exasperated looking back at you, your phantom.

"Better get started, it's almost 9 . " You whispered hovering closer to his ear.

"Stop that. " Mattheo flinched at your cold breath.

°°°°

mattheo had singlehandedly collected each and every one of his potions reference books and spellbooks including novels studying deep into each chapter.

" what spell did you use exactly? " Mattheo hummed as he went through a textbook, switching each page.

" I believe it was called anima seperatio or something like that." You recalled.

"Godrick's sake. " Mattheo cursed under his breath, looking for the exact page.

"I didn't mean to be my own subject. " You sighed.

"So who's soul did you intend to seperate from their body? " Mattheo asked, eyes glued to the book as he flipped a few pages.

"I intended to do the opposite. " You replied, hovering above him.

"Meaning? " Mattheo asked.

"I tried to resurrect myrtle. "

"Moaning Myrtle? " Mattheo questioned.

"Yeah, I feel bad for her, to be honest, I tried to learn two spells, one to resurrect her, and another to make her young again."

"So she wouldn't die the second you would revive her. " Mattheo finished.

"Exactly." You sighed.

"But how would you make her younger as a spirit, she died when she was, 14,I suppose."

"Thats what I was trying to figure out. " You huffed.

Mattheo chuckles.

"What's so funny? "

" nothing. " Mattheo smiled to himself, hiding his face.

"Bet you think I'm an idiot. "

"I didn't mean that. "

°°°°

"I've found it, I just need the ingredients. "

"Oh finally , it's been 30 minutes now. " You sighed in relief.

"Merlin, says right here the potions gonna take 2 hours to complete. "

"Meaning we'll finish before dawn, brilliant. " You smiled.

Mattheo smiled back in sympathy as he went to collect the ingredients.

"Thanks by the way. " You whispered as mattheo kept the required items beside his cauldron.

"Thought you'd never thank me. " Mattheo grunted as he attempted to open a bottle of dragon scales.

"Three of those. " You replied as he managed to open the lid.

"Thanks."

You smile.

"Why would you help Myrtle at this time of the night anyway? " Mattheo asked, eyes still on the cauldron.

"Its her birthday tomorrow. " You replied with a smile.

"That's really considerate of you." Mattheo smiled.

"Thanks Matty. " You sighed.

"Excuse me? " he hesitated.

"Yes? "

"What did you just call me? "

"Matty."

"Weird."

"Talking about yourself i see." You replied.

"We've just met and you've already arranged me a nickname? " Mattheo questioned as he poured two spoons of pearl dust into the cauldron.

"Of course I have, surprised you haven't. "

"I haven't what? "

"Arranged me a nickname. "

Mattheo chuckles once more.

"What's so funny? " You raved.

"I think 'nincompoop' suits you well. " He bursts out into little chuckles as he smiles back at you.

"Was I supposed to laugh. " You scoff.

"You're offended and that's all that matters."

°°°°

"Are you done yet? " You yawned as you dramatically pull your head back.

"I'm more frustrated than you, love."

"Aww." You teased

"What."

"You called me love. " You smirked.

"I call everyone love, I'm british. " He joked.

"you called me loveeeee. " You teased Monotonously.

"You want this potion or not? "

"Sorry."

"That's more like it. " He smirked.

°°°

You stared at the window admiring the admist of the night, the stars soaring above the midnight sky and aligning almost perfectly in the most elegant of shapes and patterns.

Your eyes followed mattheo's presence.

"Done yet? " You asked.

"30 minutes left, I've brewing it, needs time to settle. " Mattheo ensured.

"Great." You spoke as you flew over to him.

"Wait how exactly are you going to drink this potion though? " Mattheo questioned.

"Put it in my mouth. " You spoke.

"In your dead body's mouth? " Mattheo asked.

"Yeah, read the instructions like 15 times when you were brewing it. " You yawned.

Mattheo yawned back.

°°°°

"Done! " Mattheo rejoiced, jumping in happiness as he poured the potion into a vile.

"Do it then. "

"Right." Mattheo answered as he went towards your corpse, which now smelled like decaying animals.

You observed as mattheo poured the potion into your mouth, opening it with a spoon.

You felt a weird pulling force upon your misty body as you poured back into your physical body.

A loud gasp filled the room as you opened your eyes in a sudden minute.

" Bloody hell. " You cursed as you attempted to get up.

Mattheo offered his arm and you pulled yourself up.

"Thank you so much Matty. " You chanted as you pulled him into your arms, forming a sweet hug.

Mattheo pat your back and hugged you back, then leaving you out.

You smiled and he smiled back.

"You're amazing you know that? " You whispered.

Mattheo smirked.

"Tell me something I don't know."

"You and your cocky face. " You laughed.

"But seriously, I'm extremely thankful. " You continued.

"I need sleep. " Mattheo yawned.

"You may leave, I'll clean up this mess. " You smiled.

"Not on my watch, I'm cleaning, you're sleeping. "

"Matty." You smiled.

"Hmm."

"No way I'm going to let you clean. "

"How about you help me? " Mattheo stared at your eyes.

"Thank you Mattheo. "

"You're welcome, love. "

#mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #ghost #moaning Myrtle #new #matty #cute mattheo #Halloween special yall #i really hope you like it #i really tried 😭#slytherin boys

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frye7 · 4 months

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I'm so freaking tired to read comments about how Radahn actually beat and is stronger than Malenia and he holds back the stars and learns magic not to kill Leonard IN. EVERY. SINGLE. MALENIA'S. POST/VIDEO/MEME/EVERYTHING.

More often than not TOTALLY UMPRONTED.

Like, we get it, you Radahn's fanboys are irked your favourite character isn't the absolute best. So what?

The lore literally said "Malenia fought Radhan to a standstill" AND THAT'S THE END OF IT.

Yes, afterwards she bloomed, making Caelid what we see today, and yes, that made her pass out, and yes, she had to be carried away by Finlay, so what?

Literally how does that make her less then her opponent, who lost his mind and became a shadow of his former self?

Also, she gets insulted all the time because you all think she bloomed because she didn't want to lose, when actually WE DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHY SHE DID IT.

Did she do it because she was desperate? Maybe.

Did she do it because her needle broke? Maybe.

Did she do it because she couldn't hold back the Rot anymore? Maybe.

We don't know how the Rot works.

What we do know is that her Cleanrots followed her with pride, at the point of CHOOSING TO DECAY to stand by her side. And I don't think many of them would have done that for a Demigod who would nuke an entire region without second thoughts or giving a damn about it.

We all saw how Godrick treated his people and the reputation and hate it gained him from the Lands Between.

(And the fact that Malenia, after being insulted by him and still even if it was her right to chose not to kill him should make you people ponder on what it says about her character. Literally why would she willingly cause such pain and distruction to innocent people when she didn't kill an horrible person like Godrick? When SHE HERSELF HATES HER ROT)

That's the whole point with George Martin.

The whole point with him and his books: in medieval times informations are unreliable, because some are made up, some are incomplete, some are missing, etc.

And that's the same thing for Elden ring, all informations and lore we have comes from dialogues and item's descriptions.

And ALL of them proclaimed the battle of Aeonia a tragic battle which ended in a STALEMATE.

Cry all you want about it, and STOP insulting characters other people like just because you don't like the lore.

Both Radahn and Malenia are impressive, not perfect, but certainly impressive characters and leaders, as both their armies followed them with pride.

There is literally NO POINT in keeping that discussion up. And there is certainly NO POINT in ruining all posts that celebrates Malenia FOR HERSELF, without even talking about Radahn.

SHOW SOME RESPECT.

THANK YOU KINDLY.

#elden ring #elden ring lore #i'm so tired about this #malenia blade of miquella #malenia goddess of rot #malenia the severed #not calling her the undefeated even though it's her title #don't want to cause more tears in those fanboys than those they are already cryjng #literally why the only way you have by celebrating radahn is by bringing malenia down #i seriously hope from soft will do something about this #starscourge radahn

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beepartcollection · 1 year

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SLAMS MY HANDS DOWN ON THE COUNTERTOP. Engineer elden ring. May I hear of what’s going on with him :)?

*rubs hands* WELL

so to preface- the mercs are basically isekai'd into the lands between, relating to some lore about Marika and undead. One moment they're being shot at and dying in the New Mexico badlands and the next they're on a cliff that overlooks a giant tree the size of 2.5 burj khalifas that glows.

They travel for a while and meet Sellen, who offers to teach them sorceries, and Engie, after not having any mechanical things to tinker with for a while, and realizing magic is this place's math and science, gladly accepts. After all, he doesn't have his sentries and tools, so he might as well learn something new, he loves learning. When Merasmus pops in on Halloween flinging spells around is usually pretty fun, so why not? Also Scout nearly blew himself up when he tried doing magic, so no more for him.

So Engie is the team's other ranged fighter! Aside from Sniper, who uses a bow and arrow.

He usually works as the team's mediator, breaking up fights between them and talking to people who are even less mentally stable than the mercs cause, well, if it had to be a contest on who has people that are less mentally stable, I think Elden Ring would win.

He also teaches the team how to ride the horses they were given!

It. Goes.

He does split from the team sometimes though, to go with Sellen to find Primeval sorcerers and learn some of their magic (he does learn Comet Azur). But generally he sticks with the team. He goes with them through Stormveil, Radahn, Mt Gelmir, Leyendell- some nice spots! I have a scene in mind where they're about to fight Godrick The Grafted, and when they enter his arena, he does his little 'oo lowly tarnished playing as a lord' but Engie just 'actually, we aint lookin to become no lords, we just wanna go home'. And Godrick is like. What.

They also find and heal Millicent in this au! And when they find her Heavy, Engie, and Spy (much to his own chagrin) are like 'i have known Millicent for 1 day but if anything happened to her I would kill this entire team and then myself'. Millicent and Engie bond the best though, cause of being amputees (Godrick ripped off Engie's gunslinger btw to try grafting it into themself, it didn't work and the gunslinger was ruined), Millicent being interested in Engie's homeland of Texas, and Engie in general is just, so dadly, dadliest merc, and very friendly when you dont realize how not normal he is. Plus if you know Millicent's backstory you know she could use a dad right now.

She goes with him and Sellen on their adventures to find primeval sorcerers and Sellen stuff, but they do part when Engie and the team takes on Radahn, citing she has to go on her journey (if u play Elden Ring, u know).

After the first death of the team and Spy leaving, Engie does try to console Soldier, telling him he's a good leader, and they'll get home, he promises. Engie and him do fight though when he realizes what dragon communion is doing to Soldier's body, and says he can't be doing that, they don't know what it'll do to him (how hypocritical of you, Engie).

He goes to Raya Lucaria to help Sellen one last time. I have this comic I made but I don't think I'll finish it, and I don't wanna spoil Engie's fate out in The Public until I write it in the fic i wanna write, but here's a part of comic

Overall Engie has a nice time in elden ring au :3 aside from the end

#my art #beepartcollection #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 engineer #elden ring au #im sorry but this au is funny hahah goofy fun silly for the first half and the second half is oh god oh fuck oh jesus christ #ottoslab

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tarnishedinquirer · 4 days

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Into the Old Keep

Returning to the Liftside Chamber, there was this one stubborn door that refused to open. Which was frustrating because it led right down into that mystery abyss.

I tried dropping down from the ledge right outside the chamber, but only got a sprained ankle for my troubles and the realization that, while I could keep going down, I could not get back up to unlock that door.

So, time to go up. I took the lift to the top of the tower, and found a very peculiar sight. Miniature jars, like Alexander but much smaller. Seemed almost cute.

....until the mother jar showed up. It tried to smash me with its bulk while the little ones pounded me with their tiny fists. Once I shattered them, the big one dropped a Living Jar Shard and a.... a.... a meat dumpling.

Oh gods those are teeth.

A pungent raw meatball, made succulent by virtue of being on the verge of turning. Heals, but also poisons the user. Not recommended for those who prefer to know the origin of their meats.

Thanks, voice. If I run out of Crimson Tears, I'll just die instead.

This confirms what I suspected about Alexander. He is definitely filled with actual people, mashed into a pulp. The though turned my stomach even more than the "dumpling" did.

The jars actually were alive. Not just animated. The meat had turned into some sort of...tissue.

A fragment of a living jar, hardened after its death. Such fragments command a high price due to the magical power locked within. This leaves the living jars unfortunate targets for poachers.

So why were there so many of these broken around the Weeping Peninsula Minor Erdtree?

Another thing I found in the jar nest was a Cracked Pot, like the kind I use for holy water or fire. Are these jar eggs or something? If I put human meat in it, would it grow into one of those smaller jars and attack me? Curiosity and disgust warred in me, but disgust won. I would not be investigating that.

Past that was a very strange collapsed part of the floor. It looked less like a collapse and more like an impact. Like something landed here and dug a furrow, collapsing several floors before coming to a stop. It was hard to even envision what this place was before the collapse, and the only way I could make sense of it was that this is a place where construction stopped. Whatever renovations Godrick was making had completely petered out at this spot. Even if the rest of it was sometimes a confusing patchwork, the construction here did not match up at all.

I climbed up some scaffolding to a ledge, then across to a window. When I stepped out, I saw another one of those red Banished Knights. She was kneeling over the corpse of one of those fire-breathing Warhawks, with a regular Stormhawk joining her.

Had she killed it? If so, she still clearly held great respect for the beast. The feeling was mutual, as the other hawk was docile and joining her mourning. This all but confirmed for me that the hawks were intelligent. Perhaps the Banished Knights were once kin to the hawks of Stormveil, but the Warhawk hadn't recognized her due to its far more invasive prosthetics.

I continued on my path through a storage room, across more scaffolding, up to an even worse collapsed floor, and into what seemed like an even older part of the castle.

Here, the construction was completely different. It felt even more familiar. The only inhabitants were long-neck commoners, who didn't appreciate my intrusion. Under the stairs, someone had stashed a Manor Towershield

An iron greatshield large enough to cover the entire body. Depicts the Roundtable Hold, gathering place of champions.

God. It just hit me. I finally figured it out. Why the older parts of the castle seemed so familiar. The arms, the armor, the whole thing. I'd been looking at it for so long without seeing the significance, I didn't even notice it anymore.

The Roundtable Hold. This castle was exactly like the Roundtable Hold. At least, originally. The same arms and armor that decorate Stormveil could be found there.

Before the gaudy facades. Before the curse of pox and thorns.

At one time, Stormveil and the Roundtable Hold had been twin castles.

I stepped out on the battlement, and a rune message greeted me. Far more articulate than your typical runes, and with Rogier's visage. I knew that if I followed his instructions, I'd finally reach the secret of Stormveil Castle.

Were the knights banished from the Roundtable Hold?

What kinship do they have with the hawks?

What impacted this area of the castle?

Do Living Jars grow from the Cracked Pots?

What awaits me down below?

#elden ring #elden ring lore #in character #in character blog #in character post #let's play #rogier #sorcerer rogier #living jar #stormveil #banished knights #roundtable hold #fortified manor #stormhawks #dragon communion

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toweringclam · 10 months

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Part 1: Who is Godefroy the Grafted?

This guy has always intrigued me because he's a complete non-presence in the lore. There's only one line of text in the entire game that mentions him. But he feels like he should be more important. Here's a literal demigod just stuck in an evergaol, and we're supposed to overlook that??

First off: Yes, of all the copy-paste bosses, he's the most copypasted. He is literally an exact copy of Godrick, just with a blue glow. He even has less moves than the original. If I had my druthers, he'd at least look a little different. Maybe give him a beard or something, IDK.

While he's not the only copy-pasted Runebearer boss, he's the only one who is clearly meant to be a different character and not just an illusion or summon or whatever. Yet unlike the copies of Mohg and Morgott, he's not guarding something important. He's stuck in some out of the way area, holding a mediocre talisman. There is literally no reason for him to exist unless he's supposed to tell us something.

But what?

When there's very little to go on, we have to look at connections. That presents a problem in Elden Ring because the world is far more interconnected than any other From Souls game. You can spin out into madness following the web of connections. Not only is it complex, a lot of things we take for granted are contradicted later because what we thought we believed was just hearsay and propaganda. Propaganda is everywhere in the Lands Between, and that perhaps gives us our first clue:

Godefroy has been erased.

Whatever his role was in the past, he's been memory holed, just like Mohg and Placidusax. An Omen demigod who doesn't hate himself and won't play ball? An Elden Lord that predates the supposed First Elden Lord Godfrey? That's inconvenient. It messes up the clean narrative of the Golden Order. He's never mentioned because he has been unpersoned, and unlike Mohg, he's not still around to cause trouble.

But I think I can do better than that. I think I can figure out why.

#godrick the grafted #godefroy the grafted #godrick the golden #godfrey the first elden lord #elden lore #elden ring #elden ring lore #fromsoft #soulsborne #souls lore

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noodyl-blasstal · 9 months

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Stars Again!

It's day 6 of @tazsapphicweek and time for the final bit of the Lady in the Lake. Part 1 | Part 2.

Breaking news: Idiot has a realisation; Istus gets to do her job! Read below or on AO3

---

“I’m an idiot.” Says Raven, announcing herself.

“You’ll have to be more specific, dear, whatever do you mean?” Istus replies, pushing enough love into the words to ensure Raven lets her get away with her big smug smile.

“Oh shush.” There’s no bite in her words. “So, what do I need to do?”

“Nothing. Here you go.” Istus holds the sword out. It’s different this time, less gaudy than usual. The hilt is burnished, but clearly well worn. It’s experienced, lined by age, and beautiful with it. Just like Raven. The pommel doesn’t drip with gems, just a simple embossed bird. It’s perfect, it’s right.

“Fuck off. You can’t just hand it over.” Raven doesn’t reach for it. They’re usually half in the water and grabbing for it by now.

“I thought you were ready?” Istus doesn’t understand, the prophecy said tonight was the night… she waited so long! She was so patient… Raven clearly, finally knows she’s the true king, so what’s the hold up? Why doesn’t she want it? If she’s not ready then, well Istus will give her time, Istus will give her anything she asks, but the necromancers will definitely not extend the same kindness…

“Shouldn’t there be a ceremony? Some kind of speech? You’re not even wearing the fancy gown, I know full well you put it on for Godrick and he was shit! I thought you loved me?” Raven looks so indignant that Istus manages to choke back her laughter.

“You want the whole shebang?” Istus asks as straight faced as she can manage, hopefully the corner of her mouth twitching won’t give her away.

“Yep. If anything, I want the fanciest she you’ve ever banged. Wait… Hang on, no that came out wrong.”

Istus breaks then, flopping backwards into the water cackling.

“No, come back! Istus! I want the bells! I want the whistles!”

It takes a heroic effort, but Istus flicks her tail and brings herself upright again, bobbing close enough to hold Istus’ hand. “Okay dear, I understand. I’ll make sure it’s worthy of you.” She lets go and swims back slightly, making sure she’s out of range for the next bit. “... afterall, you certainly are the fanciest she I know.” One of Raven’s crackers bonks off Istus’ head. “I think you dropped something there darling.” Raven reaches into her pocket to grab another, Istus isn’t going to give her another chance. “Hold tight, I’ll be back soon.”

She dives below the surface of the water, lets the cool silk of the lake wash across her. It was reasonable, of course, Raven was the king, it was only fair for her to expect some kind of honouring. Istus had known it since a few years after they met, she’d had years to get used to the idea, but this was all new to Raven. She deserved the pomp. She deserved the circumstance. She deserved the best.

– “Are you ready?” Istus shouts, peeking out from behind the rocks where Raven had evidently given up on standing. She spies her on the shore instead, lying on the pebbles.

“Raven?”

There’s no reply, well, none other than the low rumbling noise emanating from under Raven’s wide brimmed hat. Istus resists the impulse to huff, she knows Raven’s had a hard day. Hard months, to be honest, she seems more exhausted each time she visits. Raven leaves the lake and the world pulls another chunk out of her. She keeps going anyway, keeps fighting, keeps her faith in what’s right and true, just like a king should. Istus can forgive a nap, then. But, but she's also impatient, and there's only so long she can wear the dress before it gets fully saturated and feels terrible on her skin and scales.

"Psssst." She waits, nothing.

"Raven?"

"It's time to wake up, dear."

"I'm wearing the dress! It’s going a bit see through!”

“Raven, c'mon!"

The first pebble Istus throws pings off Raven's hat, the second one lands squarely on her chest, bounces, and skitters away. The third one grazes her cheek. Raven grumbles slightly and sleeps on.

Well fine, Raven wants the works? She can experience the full power of the lake.

The tendril of lake water gathers itself for a moment before splashing down across Raven's face.

"Wuh… huh? I wasn't sleeping! I'm awake." Raven snaps upright, glances guiltily around. Istus resists the urge to snort out a laugh. She's glad that she set up the waterproof camera Raven had brought her, she was going to isolate the frame of Raven’s panicky awakening and treasure it always.

Raven casts her eyes to the lake, clearly searching for Istus. She won't have to search for long. It's time to begin.

Istus concentrates hard on the tendrils of mist knitting them together so they thicken and blanket the surface of the water.

"Oooh, is this it? Is it starting?" Raven sounds delighted.

Istus' chest shakes with silent giggles as she fights to keep her concentration on the task at hand.

"It looks really cool! You're doing great!" Raven yells from the shore.

The algae begins to glow then, steady and bright in the moonlight. Istus doesn't have an in with the stars like she does with the lake or she'd make them glow brighter too.

"Wow!" Says Raven loudly. "I wonder what's happening here! This is all so mysterious! I wonder if anything important is going on!"

Fates, this woman was not an actor. Not to mention that at no point has Istus indicated any audience participation was required in this process until she is actually handing over the sword.

A plume of water shoots dramatically into the air and Raven gasps, hands flying to her face in delight. "That was genuine, love, I wasn't expecting that!"

While the water is still misting it's way back down to the lake surface Istus starts the whirlpool, lake water spinning and churning, then suddenly stilling to a circle of glassy smooth water, unaffected by the small waves around it. She swims hard, and, from that lake mirror, emerges Istus.

She crests slowly, tail weaving gently below her to keep her pace steady. The dress pools on the surface, white fabric billowing, dry as long as her spellwork holds.

"Fuck me, you're hot." Raven doesn’t shout as loudly as she did before, but Istus hears all the same and has to fight not to lean into it. This isn’t time for flirting, this is time for reverence.

"Traveller!" She booms.

Raven does the universal double look over the should, point to yourself, 'who, me?' pantomime. Istus works hard to resist rolling her eyes, she deserves a prize for it honestly. She'll tell Raven as much later.

"Your coming was foretold!" Istus regrets the phrasing the instant the words leave her mouth.

Istus can hear Raven thinking filthy thoughts as she bounces her eyebrows. Istus continues anyway, like the consummate professional she is.

"... and it is my job to bestow upon you a great gift, a great responsibility; the sword of fate."

Raven's rapt, thankfully. Istus doesn't know how much longer she can resist laughing at the heckling.

"...the sword is the sword of the true king, the instrument of divine power by which your reign will be declared, by which your rule will be cemented, to which your fate will be twined."

Raven's silent, eyes shining in the algae’s glow.

"... With this token, know that you are responsible for all citizens of this nation. With this token, know my favour lies with you."

Istus summons the sword then, pulls it from the depths with speed enough to fly free of the water. It hangs above her, glows bright, cuts through the layers of mist.

"... With this token, know that you, Raven of Neverwinter, are the one and true king.

The sword falls gently, Istus holds her hand out and waits for the grip to place itself in her palm. She doesn’t look at it, just waits for the familiar weight.

Raven gasps, involuntary and quiet. Istus hopes this lives up to her expectations… she’ll ask for feedback later.

She flips the sword in her hand, holding the green kelp woven sheath instead, handle pointed toward shore. "Raven of Neverwinter, will you accept my gift?"

Raven walks forward now, wades into the lake without the usual hopping to remove her shoes and socks. There's no laughter in her in this moment. The weight of responsibility is heavy on her shoulders but she still stands tall and proud and kingly.

Raven stops just short of the drop off where Istus floats, drops to a knee in the still shallow water. "Honourable friend, I gladly will." She takes the sword. There's no thunder clap or triumphant song, no indication that the world has changed, but Istus knows it to be true all the same.

"May the fates bless you, King Raven."

"Thank you." A quiet whisper.

There's a long beat of silence. Istus usually goes now, sinks back into the water unseen by the king who has already turned to leave.

"I love you." Raven says.

"I love you too, my king." And how Istus does. This perfect woman, the person she has thought of every day for 14 years, the love of her life. This is the king the people deserve. She's going to save the world, she's going to be amazing.

"... So, you said something about coming?"

#TAZ Sapphic Week #Istus/Raven #The Raven Queen #Istus #TAZ Balance #Noodyl Writes #TAZ Fic #I really enjoyed the story of this one #I hope you all did too!

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catcas22 · 11 months

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Please please PLEASE I beg you, give Godrick *some* measure of empathy. Poor bastard is a fuckup, but he grew up in the shadow of his brother, father, mother/second parent and grandfather, this man is a monster but he also inherited generations’ worth of pressure.

He is, at the very least, *trying* to make up for his shortcomings, even if he’s extremely fucked- he saw magic and decided “I wanna learn that”.

I know his fate is to get the shit beat out of him and die pathetically with no one caring, because this is Godrick in an ER fanfic, but I beg you to just. Give him a few moments of success or empathy.

Even his fight scene was just him bumbling about on the academy bridge. This shit is sad, at least to me. Man gets less lines than his seconds in command

I know that in some ways, Godrick is a rather pitiable character. But that's sort of the point -- in my interpretation, he's one of those people who bemoans their position at the bottom of the pecking order, only to behave like an absolute tyrant when given the slightest taste of real power.

But my interpretation isn't the only one. I'm writing Rykard fairly sympathetically, and I know that based on the text of the game, the man could easily be portrayed as an outright supervillain. I don't have a ton of sympathy for Godrick, but that doesn't mean other people have to agree with me.

But just for my part, I can't muster up much sympathy for Godrick. Yes, he has reasons for his inferiority complex. But he also chops up his followers for spare parts without a second thought -- many of them implied to be children and his own grandkids/nieces and nephews. While I understand why he'd want to get stronger, his methods show a distinct lack of care for other people, people who are just as weak and hard-done-by as he is.

In Prince of Death, Godrick isn't going to be only a source of black comedy. Even though he hasn't done much fighting with his own hands, his actions have already massively impacted the plot -- if not for him, Godefroy would be marching on Leyndell and Rennala and her followers would already be wiped out. He might not be the most impressive character, but he's already been a vital spanner in the works.

And it wouldn't be accurate to say that his eventual fate will be to die unmourned -- If nothing else, Godwyn and Fia would mourn the death of their son.

Thanks for the ask!

#elden ring #prince of death fic #answered asks #godrick the grafted

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blaiddfailcam · 1 month

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It's kinda funny how Enia just like. Gives you the wrong info regarding the Demigods lol.

"The demigods are each and all the direct offspring of Queen Marika."

WELL AKSHUALLY, only Godwyn, Morgott, Mohg, Miquella, and Malenia (and Melina) were. That's 6 Demigods.

She goes on to explain Godrick was merely a distant descendant—but as per Godrick's Great Rune, Godfrey himself was also a Demigod, along with the Golden Lineage. As far as we know, Godfrey wasn't Marika's child, just her hubby.

Radagon was regarded a "mere champion" prior to his marriage to Marika. According to Rykard and Radahn's Great Runes, his children with Rennala were not recognized as Demigods until this moment, meaning the status can simply be bestowed upon official induction into Marika's pantheon. (Even if Radagon technically is Marika, this proves that at least according to public perception, the Demigod status has nothing to do with Marika's actual bloodline.)

Presumably, Radagon was also made a Demigod upon marriage to her, just as Godfrey was. At the very least, Marika's words to Radagon illustrate that despite being her "other self," Radagon was not yet a god until they fractured into one. They share a soul, but not her divinity.

So really, less than half of the (named!) Demigods are Marika's "direct offspring." Godfrey, Godrick, Godefroy*, Radagon, Ranni, Rykard, and Radahn were all either gifted the title of Demigod through wedlock/adoption or through distant relation. This before even going into the unnamed, soulless Demigods of the Wandering Mausoleums, lol.

Enia, you should retire... NOW!

*Godefroy isn't directly stated to be a Demigod, but as he's evidently part of the same Golden Lineage as Godrick, lbr, he's a fucking Demigod.

#elden ring #my ramblings

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elden-shame · 2 years

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Raindrops || Godrick x Consort ( Gender Neutral)

Have some fluff. Oh and Godrick’s consort is as certain as the raindrops falling from the ever pouring storm, so enjoy that.

Requested tags: @krakenguard @blackbladesimp @prismatic-starstuff @luminescent-on-high @thenightmarelibrarian @mei-is-tarnished @funky-insanitear @red-hydra

The grafted lord was a proud man, a loud and bold man, he did not settle for any less than he deserved, he did not take shit and he would not let anyone talk down upon him. He would never admit he was a weak man, a sickly man who grafted himself for strength, to stay the sickness and in admiration to the true golden lord, Godfrey. Godrick was not a little man, his frame bulky and large, his myriad of limbs grasping his usual mantle to his back, one of his main arms coated in armour his clothes altered to fit his many limbs and he was by all means, in a way, intimidating. All feared him.

All but them, his little consort. The first to look upon him not in fear or disgust, they didn’t see him as something to ridicule no. “You are exactly who you want to be, the past is the past and the future is yet to be. But… you are still you no?” They had told him, smiling, looking up to him as they held one of his hand between both of theirs. He thought fondly of them often, even if he did not let it show when he tended to his duties as a lord; which he had rather neglected but thanks to them, he was making some effort he wanted to make them be proud to be known as his consort. Nothing less than perfect would be acceptable. They always had a place in his mind, and even when he carried himself tall, as a lord, within their bed chambers that was an entirely different matter.

Today was one such day, the storm over the castle rumbled with thunder, raindrops falling against the glass panes as the greyish light, mingling with the gold of the distant erdtree bled in to the room. It was late afternoon, Godrick had been busy most the day and his consort had retired to their chambers to rest, feeling rather tired and now free of his duty the lord went to join them. He entered and immediately his eyes fell upon his little consort, laying on their side on the large bed dwarfed by its size and thick frame that was specially made to support his grafted weight. Slowly he approached, his footfalls anything but silent yet he tried softly not wishing to disturb them as he moved over and then slowly sat down on the edge of the bed,not once did his gaze leave them as their eyes opened and met his.

“All done?” They asked softly, voice hushed as they rewarded his arrival with a warm smile, a hand reaching for him and he was not going to refuse them. He shifted, kicking his boot off and shifting his mantle as he lay down beside them, one hand removed his golden crown setting it on the side as a multitude of hands reached out for them, taking their hand gently pulling them close to his chest as many arms gently wrapped around them, “Aye, that I am.” He murmured, his voice surprisingly soft, no one would ever hear him like this. Warm, kind, even for his hulking figure he was being so gentle, only for them. Always only for them.

There were not many words passed, as the two fell into a silence that was not uncomfortable no, it was welcomed as they lay snug to each other. Some hands caressed their face, pushing their hair from it and stroking their cheek, one of their hands linked their fingers with his as their other came to his cheek, he immediately rested his face against it, gazing at them lovingly as he let out a soft sigh. Thunder rumbled over head, a faint flash of lightning and still raindrops tapped away at the window, “I love thee, mine little raindrop.” Godrick mumbled, his voice breaking that silence to which his consort smiled, shifting to oh so softly press a kiss to his pale lips, “And I,” they murmured as he pulled them close, stealing another kiss which they returned gladly, “Love you, my beautiful lord.”

#godrick the grafted #elden ring #elden ring fanfic #godrick x reader #godrick x tarnished #godrick / reader #godrick / tarnished

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cerberus253 · 1 year

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Alright Hugging Gostoc Time Let’s Go

What I find funny to me is that I was neutral about him at first, but I knew, I just knew, that he would eventually grow on me. And so he did, like I expected, and now I daydream about hugging that Rat Man, which was unexpected.

So anyway, this is set up after meeting him, finding out he stalks you for your Runes but you’re like “eh, he probably needs them more than me, and I can just get more,“ you rejoice with him about defeating Godrick and also kick the shit out of him with Gostoc, then you eventually leave for however long it takes to finally complete Nepheli’s Questline because you go back to see how his “free-man“ business is going and you kind of miss him because you’re weird (don’t worry, I’m also calling myself weird here and I’m proud)

Returning to the scene of the crime, where Godrick was finally taken down with the help of Nepheli, your favorite Rat Man is no longer kicking and stomping his former-king’s stumpy corpse.

“Well, I hope he’s okay, wherever he is. Hopefully not getting into too much trouble, since he sounded a little...questionable when he said he’s finally free,” you think, as you gloss over the surroundings and eventually decide to head into the throne room. Might as well look and see if anything different has happened.

Upon entering the room, you are surprised to see Nepheli Loux, and Kenneth Height, no less. Long time no see! Anyway, you catch up with them, being informed that Nepheli has taken the throne here and Kenneth supporting her. But by any chance...

Feeling embarrassed, you ask, “Hey, uh, have either of you seen--,“ but you are cut off by seeing a familiar head poke out from the tall back of the throne. “Gostoc!” Of course you meant to smile, because this is who you were looking for, but you didn’t mean to smile with such enthusiasm. Your eyes grew wide with surprise, and your mouth curved and open in such joy, making your face radiant with happiness. Look, you didn’t know you would be this happy to see him, alright? And neither did any of the three before you, especially Gostoc himself, flinching at your apparent... delight? At seeing him??

Before your consciousness could stop you, leaping from your position and towards him, you completely ignore the “personal space“ guideline, and gave him a big, warm, passionate hug. he smelled really bad, but you were too elated to care.

“Ooooooo I’m so happy to see youuu,“ you exclaim, squeezing him more, “and I’m so glad you’re alright! I was really worried about you!“ Lightly shaking him side to side, you are unaware of the looks coming your way, especially from Gostoc. He was immensely startled,

“’Ey, what are you--?!“ Gostoc sounds confused and a bit annoyed, but continues to just stand there, since technically he wasn’t being harmed, but still, this is very weird to him. Looking at Nepheli for a response to this sudden event, she states you are simply hugging him. Kenneth makes an bewildered huff as to say, What?! Really? You’re hugging him?? Nepheli quickly shoots him a glance to not be so judgemental.

“Oh, I, er... never ‘ad one of those before.“ Reluctantly, he awkwardly pats you on the back with his hand, but even after that you still hold onto him tightly.

“You can stop that now, ya know.“ You don’t. You breath in and out slowly and heavily, cherishing the moment you apparently wanted for the longest time. Really burying your face into him, you noticed he didn’t have that neck shackle around him anymore. That’s good, not only does that symbolize his self-imposed freedom, but it was easier to hug him. Hearing and feeling his heart beat rapidly was making you grin even more. Was he getting a little warmer or is that just you?

Anyway, you look up at him and catch the look of fluster about him, asking how his “free man“ business is going.

“Er, it wasn’t worth squat. Besides, I like it ‘round ‘ere. I’m Lady Nepheli’s official attendant now.“ He’s kind of relaxing now.

Sighing with either relief or pleasure, or both, “That’s good to hear. Nepheli’s a good person, so you’ll be alright.“ You stare up at him with those doe eyes you can muster, still warmly smiling. It’s hard to tell, but you could swear you saw Gostoc flushing red in his grey cheeks, but he turns to break your loving gaze out of nervousness.

“A-Alright, I think that’s enough that, you.“ Gostoc half-hardheartedly tries to push you away, and you somewhat give in playfulness, but quickly whine about how you want to keep holding him.

“Quite rude to deny a lady’s passionate embrace now, isn’t it?“ Nepheli teases him, to which he disquietly groans. Immediately going back to hug him, you make a satisfying and adoring little “mm~“ at the continued experience.

“’Ere, if I show you something that may be of your interest, will you stop hugging me?“

“Hmm, no.“

“For the love of--“ This bartering argument continues for a bit, but Nepheli comes in.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for the poor man. Off.“ She signals for you to let go of him, to which you begrudgingly did, sadly.

After some shopping and buying that sweet sweet Dragon Smithing Stone for a cheaper price by threatening to hug him again, you were finally off to continue your adventure. Waving and saying, “Bye Gostoc! Bye Nepheli! Bye Kenneth! Bye Gostoc!“ You said ‘bye‘ to him twice because you like him.

You didn’t hear nor see this, but Nepheli glances over to Gostoc and asks, “Gostoc, did you enjoy that hug? Do not lie to me.“ Embarrassed to respond, he quietly said maybe.

“Maybe. A little. I-It was rather nice.“

“And ff she wants, let her hug you again.“ Gostoc groans at this seemingly “command“ she gives him, but deep down he really wanted to feel that warm embrace again and see the absolute elation from someone to see him. Nobody was ever that happy to see him, but you were, and that made his heart flutter a bit. Great, now he’ll have to hide his eagerness to get hugs from you again, it’s going to be humiliating.

---

And then throughout the time apart he thinks about the warmth of your body and the beating of your heart against his frail form, how wonderful it would be to always be that close to you, feeling you, and blah blah blah he probably gets horny because he’s never been touched affectionately before :V

I’m really tired

#elden ring #gatekeeper gostoc #gostoc #gostoc x reader #hugging #i wanna hug this rat man so badly #and give him the love he never knew existed #especially for someone like him

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awellboiledicicle · 1 year

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Realizing slowly that Fiona would less slide down the slippery slope of grafting and more take a running start.

Also that if their first son became the first Grafted Scion, theres a nonzero chance that they had to get him out of the city without letting him fight Radahn when the shattering war came to Lyndell.

Because Godrick dipped out with his shard of the ring when Radahn showed up, necessitating Morgotts appearance as Margit-- since Godrick also stole his veil.

I'm headcanoning that Godrick has very little direct martial skills, but good technical knowledge. Tactics, logistics, things like that before his great rune drove him batty. So he was fine to be slotted into a defensive leadership position after Godwyns death suddenly left a lot of vacancies. Basically he was the guy supposed to stop invasions, saw an invasion happening, and ran after getting the evacuation orders in place.

I keep imagining the only reason their son wasnt out fighting was because Godrick ordered him home to defend the family and his grotesque form was way less of a problem than "people actively trying to kill us" to the civilians.

Which is probably why there were even enough people in Limgrave later to run Stormveil as a castle and for Godrick to field soldiers. They were the evacuees in Fionas group and the soldiers tasked with overseeing evacuation. Being a smaller force, he augments with mercenary banished knights and warriors. Pressed into service anyone else he could grab up in Limgrave and set himself up a functioning keep.

I'm headcanoning that his ego couldnt take both his son, his wife, and a good chunk of his people thinking he was a coward so he started a bullshit pissing match with Malenia. She wasnt The Great Radahn, and fighting for Miquella-- who by reputation was beloved as much as his ancestor Godwyn. He felt he could take her.

On humiliating defeat later...

I feel like Fiona and Geoffrey both are nonplussed by both how soundly he'd been defeated, but how fucked up the keep got. The other children were at least too young to really track what was happening and were just happy to make it to safety without needing emergency treatments to get then through the journey.

I keep having thoughts

#the golden consort

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tarnished-doll · 2 years

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after having a shitty mental health day i indulged myself by writing something distractingly raw and rough and bittersweet. a post-arc, humanized marigold and her husband have a child together.

big cw for: complications in childbirth, mentions/allusions of related things like miscarriages and stillbirths, the general threat of mortality and blood n' gore and all that... stuff

It was a questionable idea at the start; potentially a disastrous one. Marigold was worried not for her Lord Husband’s ability to handle it, but for the integrity of the womb she extracted from herself for this very reason. She was not always human, after all.

Nine months of waiting with baited breath, nine months of conflicting anxiety and excitement now culminated in this. A thick pool of blood and viscera stagnated around the remains of Godrick’s body. It had been hollowed out in two places; both messy, desperate excisions. She warned him of this, that the child showed signs of the Omen affliction as his pregnancy drew to a close. One could never really tell these things until it was too late, and only then through pain, blood and distress as the child’s affliction developed in the womb. Nearly identical to an early, disasterous labor, or a miscarriage. Their child was born three weeks too early.

Marigold prepared for a difficult birth. She expected extensive damage to her Lord’s grafted body; it would have been a wiser decision to extract the child from the womb upon the first signs of labor, but Godrick forbade it. He could handle this. He was not going to meet the same fate as his mother, whose scars and ruined organs were blamed on him. He wasn’t about to give the kid a complex like that, not yet knowing this situation would be decidedly worse.

Godrick had known worse pain, surely. He had lost about as much blood as this in the past, for less noble reasons. But Marigold had never heard him wail and weep as he did, in agony and terror, deleriously begging for his child’s life before his. There was no relief or triumph when his wife did, finally, wrench something wet and sharp and crookedly positioned from a shattered pelvis. There was silence, save for the dripping of blood, and Marigold’s still-relatively-new heart pounding in her ears.

She didn’t have a puppet’s speed anymore, nor its precision. She was a worse surgeon for it, for even when emotions were high she could at least rely on her purpose-driven brain to carry her where her mortal(?) soul could not. Godrick’s body was failing him before her eyes, but the grafts would always begin to die before the core of him. So, she cut into them. Without the usual methods for an extraction procedure, and without the proper tools.

He will not leave her here, alone, after all they’ve been through. After all she did for him. Marigold cursed the entire time. Cursing him, cursing the tears blinding her, cursing their woefully silent child on the floor. When she wrenched the bloody core of her husband from his body - not unlike their baby - he had just stopped breathing.

What a mercy it was that Marigold had lungs now. She resuscitated him by taking her fury-grief-terror out on forcing air into his lungs, and giving him a blood-smeared kiss of life. He coughed into her mouth, and she was grateful. His pitiful wheeze resuming was music in her ears.

Then, she flinched when a sharp and angry little cry came from the floor. The horned child’s scaly little tail thrashed about with the rest of its limbs, furious at being left for dead. Marigold was quick to pick up the cold, wet infant, apologizing profusely. Two minutes into motherhood and she was already falling short.

Tiny little stubs of wings wiggled weakly under her palms. The bairn’s horns broke through the skin earlier than usual, a couple prominent ones already bending in odd and disfavorable angles. The affliction was called ‘the curse’ within certain now-defunct institutions for a reason, mistaking the chaotic nature of the Crucible for imperfection and impurity.

Marigold didn’t care about being pricked or scratched at by its rapidly hardening little talons, as she held her child close, chest fluttering with a grateful sob. Crying was exhausting, and painful. She had been doing it a lot lately, but she would much rather cry from overwhelming joy than shattering grief.

Godrick came to about ten minutes later, jerking awake as he remembered, through the lingering agony, what was at stake. “M-my baby-!”

“Here, right here.” Marigold rose from the end of the bed, stepping gingerly over the discarded meat still left leaning against it.

Godrick didn’t realize he had been peeled of all of his grafts until he reached out the scarred stumps of his former arms towards the bundle she lowered to him. Marigold held the swaddled child against his narrow chest, and he breathed a wheezy sigh of abject relief. He also winced when he was poked by a horn, rearing back to see its monstrous nature.

“Well, no wonder you tore me to shreds on your way out, you little shit.”

After going through so many other emotions in such a short span of time, Marigold burst into teary-eyed laughter at that.

It would be cruel to not let him hold his own child, and crueler still to not feed the infant, so Marigold picked through the cooling remains of her husband’s body for parts to salvage. She worked so carefully on it in anticipation of carrying their child; she thought the figure it cut was magnificent, turning so soft and matronly in the last few months. What a waste… ah well, such was the nature of her work. She cut from the corpse a pair of breasts that surreptitiously formed from individual chest sections, and a pair of serviceable arms.

Their child was given the means to nurse, first. Marigold’s extra hands held them steady against her husband to let them latch as she attached his arms. Godrick tried to kiss his baby’s head without putting an eye out in the process.

“Oh, Mari, they’re perfect - sharp bits n’ all. Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Remains to be seen. It’s too ambiguous to tell, like most Omenkind.” Marigold looked down at her child when she heard faint suckling. Another sob threatened to boil over inside of her, burning a knot in her throat.

“That’s fine, they can figure all that out on their own.” Godrick was quick to wrap his newly-grafted arm around the tiny Omen as soon as he gained feeling in it. His fingers tugged at the cloth that swaddled it. “They’ve got, uh, everything else, right? All fingers and toes, that sort of thing?”

“Two hands with ten needle-sharp claws, and two feet with ten needle-sharp talons.” Marigold smiled, pulling down the hem of her blouse to show where the baby already scratched her. The first of what she knew would be many, many war wounds from this venture. “Also, two underdeveloped wings, and a tail. So, I suppose your boasts about your draconic heritage have some weight to them.”

As soon as he gained two hands to do so, Godrick briefly unswaddled his child to gawk at their inhuman qualities. “Ha! See Mari, I told you! I told you he fucked that dragon!”

Marigold rolled her eyes. “It’s a coincidence, surely. Or a remnant of your old dragon communion days.”

“Why, it’s the joining of the old world and the new, isn’t it?” Her husband held their prickly, squirming child close with a sentimental glimmer in his eyes, looking up at her like she shared the joint position of Most Important Person in the World, in this moment. “The last diluted dregs of the Golden Lineage, and… whatever the hell you’re supposed to be. Seems fitting, doesn't it?”

She couldn’t correct him on that - she barely understood either. All she knew was that the part of her that was divine, trapped, and zealously furious at its imprisonment still loved her enough to spit the part of it that was still ‘Marigold’ out. It gave her flesh and blood, it gave her the nuances of humanity, and it gave her a womb; which she decidedly didn’t want to deal with, but was all too happy to lend to her husband.

Marigold didn’t notice she was staring distantly, blankly at the discarded grafts until Godrick spoke up, giving them a similarly disquieted stare. “You know, I’m glad you didn’t have to go through that. You don’t have as much meat to sacrifice at any given moment as I do.”

It wasn’t a practical reason that made Marigold balk and come up with a convoluted alternative, when her husband mentioned having a proper heir with her. She was simply afraid; afraid of even more changes to an unfamiliar body, afraid of the stress mounting and resulting in even less fortunate issues. She dodged a killing blow by being afraid, in some ways quite literally.

Marigold looked back at her child, whose tail poked out of its swaddling blanket to curl and uncurl around their father’s wrist. What a fittingly bizarre little thing. A culmination of hubris, love, and stubborn will. The burning knot of barely-repressed tears formed in her throat again, and this time her face broke into an ugly, distraught grimace.

“Aw, Mari, Mari; come here.” Godrick held out a hand to tug weakly at her sleeve, urging her closer. “Come here, hold your kid, take a goddamn minute and breathe.”

The former Doll hiccuped as she cried. She was really a truly hideous crier, and she was like that as soon as she took her first, choking breath with flesh-and-blood lungs. She took and held her baby, and her husband held her in turn.

“My Doll,” Godrick mumbled against the crook of her neck, “my beloved, my wife… I don’t want to have another fucking kid ever again.”

Marigold sniffled. She tasted the snot that trickled into her mouth, and it was not helping things, but she still laughed. Delirious with joy and exhaustion both.

“Oh, you fucking won't.”

#elden oc posting #my fanfiction #nsft #pregnancy ///

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tarnishedinquirer · 3 months

Text

The First Steps

Wouldn't you know it? as soon as I step outside, I start getting answers. Hope they all come as easy to me, but that's too much to hope for.

This character was standing right outside the tomb, as if he was waiting for me. Doesn't take a master inquirer to peg this man as a suspect. Even if I didn't already have a backlog of crimes, I'd start looking for one. This man was born guilty.

The weapon hidden in the back of his belt where he assumed wouldn't notice is a "kunai," a tool favored in the Land of Reeds by both gardeners and assassins. I didn't see any dirt on his gloves, just suspiciously fresh blood. From what I hear, the land has been locked in civil war so long, the grass itself feeds on blood instead of water. Seems exaggerated, but every tale from there is about blood. Not assuming he's a Reedlander, but he still seems very familiar with blood.

The audacity of this man. I don't even have to talk to him for a minute before he all but confesses. "Unfortunately, however, you are maidenless," he says, like he might have something to do with this. He tells me all the things that I'm denied from being maidenless. Runes, an invitation to the "Roundtable Hold." He's practically gloating about how, if I continue to follow the path before me, he's condemned me to certain death.

I'm waiting for him to make his offer, but it doesn't come. Not yet, at least. He must want me to squirm. Well, there's only one way to make me squirm, and his grubby fingers aren't coming anywhere close.

I do manage to get some info out of him. His name is White Mask Varré, and Godrick the Grafted is the owner of that castle up ahead, called Stormveil. The voice makes sure I know how it's spelled.

"The Grafted"? Interesting epithet. Like the "Grafted Scion" at the chapel?

Conclusion 1: The spider at the chapel was a minion of Godric the Grafted. Possibly one of his kids. Why the fuck it looked like that, or why it was there to attack me, is a different series of questions.

Conclusion 2: Varré murdered the maiden. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but the timetable fits, and that blood is less than a day old. I don't think he used the kunai, but it's so poorly concealed, it can't be his main weapon.

Couldn't help but also notice all the burned corpses on crucifixes, or the enormous knight on horseback, but I'm gonna deal with those problems later. Much, much later, if I can avoid it. I'm curious, yes, but I know when I'm punching above my weight class.

((forgive the poor resolution, I had to cut things down to potato quality to keep the recording from fucking up. I'll try bumping it up a little more soon))

#elden ring tarnished #elden ring lore #elden ring #in character blog #in character post #in character #white mask varre #godrick #tree sentinel

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bekaroth-reads · 2 years

Text

Godrick x reader 4

The room was freezing. Not that it was ever warm during the nights as you slept on the floor, by choice now as the other option was sleeping in the same bed as him, but there was something about the cold you felt now that seemed to seep into your bones. The feeling started last night as you were falling asleep, yet you chalked it up to being the usual chill that you felt. It didn’t help that the new cloths that Godrick had you wearing were all for show; the fancy, gilded designed cloth doing half the job of your old tattered attire for actually keeping you warm. To top it all off, you felt achy all over. You must have slept in an odd position to be hurting like this; that is more than the slight yet fleeting ache that you usually felt from sleeping a stone floor. Your face though, it felt like it was searing. It must have ended up closest to the fireplace, which was almost always kept lit now after your stunt the other day. Though you were awake, you had no desire to be so, and had even less desire to open your eyes. Just as the heat on your face was becoming unbearable, there was suddenly something soft and cool pressed to it.

Usually you would be concerned on what was going on, but there was something clouding your mind and making your body heavy that also seemed to make you too exhausted to find out what it was. There was one thing that you knew about the cooling presence and that was that it felt wonderful on your burning face, causing you to try and lean into it as much as you could. On the edge of the cool sensation, you felt something else; someone’s thumb from the hand that was holding whatever this was on you. Seeing as you hadn’t seen anyone else in almost a month now, you had a pretty good guess on who it was. Your suspicions were confirmed when you felt another hand brush some hair away from your face and yet another rubbing on the upper part of your chest, right below where your collarbones were. You finally opened your eyes, albeit reluctantly for multiple reasons. When you did you saw Godrick leaning over you, an unusually soft and sane grin showing on his face.

“I would wish thee a good morning, were it not already an hour past midday.” He wheezed a small chuckle and he moved what you now saw was a cloth from your forehead and placed it back into a bowl of water that was sitting nearby. Blinking a few times and looking around, you finally noticed that you were on that gigantic bed of his, feeling like you were practically drowning in it and the large and heavy blanket that was over you. As you went to sit up, he was quick to busy a few more of his arms with holding you down. “Stay as thou art. Physician says thou’rt to rest for three days at the least.” Godrick scolded as he placed the now re-dampened cloth back onto your face, sending a shiver down your body. A physician? There was someone else in here? But, when? You hadn’t even heard a thing. Hell, you didn’t even hear those horrible snores of Godrick’s even once last night now that you thought of it. He seemed to notice your confusion, which practically made him melt with how darling he thought the look was.

“When the morn came, I did not receive an answer when I went to wake thee. ‘Twas not a thought given to it for the first few moments as I know thee to be of a stubborn sort.” That caused him to chuckle a bit more as the hand rubbing at the top of your chest moved to get more of some sort of ointment from a jar another one was holding before resuming its task. “Yet, when the quiet persisted without so much as a single insult thrown my way, as thou’rt well aware is a habit of thine in the mornings, I was keenly aware that there was something amiss.” You started to stir a bit more as he was finishing his last sentence, but he started to coo little shushes at you as he made you lie down once again. “Art thou incapable of staying still, my pet?” He sighed before answering his own question, “I have had thee long enough to know that to be true, I suppose.” You didn’t feel like looking at him, so you turned your head over to the small window across the room; an action he took as you checking to see if he was telling the truth about the time of day. “By my troth, thou hast slept deeply the whole day, even as the physician searched for what ailed thee.” His face seemed to scrunch up in slight concern as he added, “Slept deeply, even as thy breathing sounded much akin to my own.” As concerning as it was that your breathing was that ragged, at least now you knew that he knew his snores were one of the most horrendous happenings in the Lands Between.

Godrick was quick to wash the worry from his face, and went on talking to you. He was talking so much that you wouldn’t have been able to get a word in even if you wanted to. Yet you didn’t as your throat felt like you had been swallowing sand and followed it up with some salt. You were so focused on the feeling that you didn’t hear what Godrick was saying to you. It wasn’t until you heard him calling you that you came out of your haze. “Pet? Hast thou heard me? Please answer, my pet.” You could have sworn that there was actually concern in his voice. But, based on context clues you also had a fever, so you could have thought you heard a lot of things. You lulled your face slowly back toward to him, and found him even closer than before. “There we are! Let thy lord see those beautiful eyes of thine.” Godrick sighed as another one of his hands gently ran across your face. “Thou shalt be well in a few days time, and shall never again sleep on that horrid floor.”

You stiffened up at the thought. With what little hope and little voice you could muster, you scratched out, “My own bed?” Godrick looked like he just saw the cutest thing in his life and sighed. “Oh, my sweet, thou’rt still of unclear thoughts, I see. No.” he leaned in and placed a kiss to your fevered forehead, his lips feeling cold and clammy against it, “Our bed. ‘Tis best for us both to have the warmth of a companion as the nights grow colder.” You wanted to say something, do something, or even think something, but the gentle pressure of him holding you to the bed, the way his one hand soothed your tightened chest muscles and made it easier to breathe, and the juxtaposition of the cool cloth and the warm blanket was making it difficult to do anything but fall back asleep. Even so, you did your best to at least fight that if you couldn’t fight anything else. That was something that he wasn’t going to have though. “Come now, stubborn thing!” He admonished with no ill will behind it when he saw you continually willing your eyes open.

The next thing you knew Godrick was scooping you up, sitting on the bed and holding you close to himself as the hand that was cupping your face switched to brushing his knuckles periodically across different areas of your face, especially ones that encouraged you to close your eyes. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, the warmth of his massive body with its all-entangling arms added with the warmth of the blanket was almost euphoric for your chilled body. “There, lean in close as thou art. Let thyself be held as thou were meant to be. Let thy Godrick shield thee from the cruel world.” He sighed as he placed another kiss to your forehead. With one last, fleeting twinge of energy you stretched your body in a feeble attempt to test his hold on you. It didn’t budge, and therefore neither did you. “Hush, now. Rest is needed for thee to be well once more. And, most likely to fight me to thy heart’s content. But until that day comes,” Godrick held you even tighter as his nose nuzzled into your hair, “ ‘t’will take all of the keep to rend thee from my embrace.” He let out a contented sigh when he felt your body start to relax, and he whispered in a barely audible tone, “Sleep well, my love.”

#godrick the grafted x reader #godrick the golden x reader #godrick the grafted #godrick the golden #godrick x reader

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