#margit writes

[veinsfullofstars]

“Any more stupid questions?”

Bonus live reactions to being saved from a Dark Matter ambush:

Started 07/13/24, finished 07/27/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost

[wordslikesilver]

I swear I’m almost done being mentally ill about Elden Ring I promise but I never see anyone talk about Morgott’s heart wrenching death scene. It’s never overtly pointed out but please imagine the progression of events from his perspective. Lying on his back, staring up at the sky, defeated. He’s one of the ONLY bosses that leaves behind a corpse and it’s heart wrenching okay, it’s OBLITERATING. Because he’s lying there withered and broken, staring up at the golden boughs of the one thing in the world he loved, not the golden order, not the greater will, he loved the Erdtree and dedicated his ENTIRE life to it even though it never loved him back because not even a man as scorned as Morgott could live without love and the love was to keep his heart still beating in his chest when he felt most like a monster. He has spent his entire life keeping this crumbling kingdom together. For his mother, who hid him away so the world wouldn’t hurt him, for his father, the man who taught him how to bear the weight of a crown and stand taller than the ignoble origins you come from. And he was so alone. The only constant in his life being that golden tree that shone down into the sewers. He is the last of all kings. The horns about his brow weighed heavier than his crown.

And then the tree was burning. Lying broken on the ground, unable to truly die, his curse expelled from his body, he could only look up and watch the only thing he loved with all his heart burn down around him. The ashes falling like snow on his face. Can you imagine the heat? The resignation? The misery and the promise that if there’s ever a next time, he’ll do better, and if there isn’t then this shall be his final legacy and he’ll just have to accept that final truth before he dies. The self hatred washing over him and passing into quiet peace as he chooses to pass away together with it. Omens do not get reincarnated by the Erdtree. Loved and blessed by the crucible of life, they are not loved the same as all the rest of us. But that’s okay. For Morgott, that was okay. He would live nobly and die with honour in its service and that would be enough. He’d spend the last moments of his life bathed in the warm ashes of orange and grey, content that even if he never felt loved by anyone at all after being cursed and shunned all his life, he did his duty as best he could and finally repaid the debt he felt towards the tree that showed him the light for so many long, lonely years.

And then, then it makes me so fucking miserable because then a pair of gentle, scarred and terribly rough hands lift him up from the ground and cradle him with all the tenderness in the world. The roar of a lion salutes his passing, honouring him, mourning him. “It’s been a long time, Morgott.” No anger, no disappointment. Simply, sadness, that he could not see you sooner. Godfrey, his father, returned at last to hold him one final time as he passes away, the rune of death now unbound and finding its way to Morgott after all this time. His last memory would be of being held by his father, loved for all that he is in the ashes of all that he dedicated his life to. His body fades, his entire world upheaved one final time, and an easily missed detail in the cutscene is that Morgott’s body becomes a Grace that points towards you, the player, to guide his father to his next step along the path of Lordship. One final time, Godfrey is guided by the unyielding love he feels for one of his children. Fuck it makes me so miserable. How do write something so tragic and not spend more time with it? How do you leave that beauty hidden in the details like it’s not one of the greatest moments of the entire game? It’s so quiet it’s private, almost. Like we’re not supposed to see that side of either of them, being such an outsider. It’s sundering to think about. Annihilating. I love it with all my heart and I hope more people love Morgott too after reading this.

[malignedaffairs]

If you look closely, Morgott's beard is a peculiar construction somewhere between old man too sad and busy for personal hygiene and neatly trimmed to perfection like he treats himself to a barber's visit twice a week and I think that's beautiful.

[barrel-crow-n]

Margit

So we know that Kaz killed Filip symbolically, with the key to a wind up dog shoved down his throat - the same dogs that Filip used to lure Kaz and Jordie into the con.

In my head, this makes it clear that Kaz had to have done it with the others, too. Why would he do it with only one of them?

Saskia's cause of death is obvious. The ribbon. Kaz strangled her with it, because it was the thing he most associated with her.

But what about Margit? She fed him hutspot. Did he suffocate her by holding her head down in food, or something? Torture her by pouring hot food on her?

[monstrousvoice]

Royal Treatment

A/N: I wrote this for a Discord server and someone said it was good enough for posting so…here you go.

Tags: Smut, Spanking, Light Bondage, BDSM,, Dom-Sub, Dub-Con, Consensual Non-Consent, Kidnapping, Drug Induced Knock-out, Playing a Scene, everything is consensual I swear, Female Tarnished

Read on AO3!

You're sneaking around the castle of Lyndell when it happens. Margit the Fell, who you now know is the King, finds you. 

It was unexpected, you didn't know he had been watching you the entire time. In a quick flurry of attacks you were disarmed and a potion of sleeping draught was broken at your feet. The cool mist seemed to seep into your very bones, making you drowsy and desperate for sleep. You collapse, but don't hit the floor. The last thing your mind registers is the Fell Omen of Lyndell staring down at you.

When you awaken, you're staring at the stone floor. Your joints ache and you feel weary, the aftereffects of breathing in so much sleeping draught. As the pounding in your head clears you look up, taking in your surroundings. 

First thing you notice is the cool air on your backside. You're naked, head to toe, not a scrap of clothing to preserve your modesty.

Second, the surface you rest on is actually a rack, one your wrists and ankles are tied firmly to. Even if you were at full strength, you wouldn't be able to break through the binds. Said binds have been chosen carefully, clearly. Leather straps that hold you in place but don't dig roughly into your skin. 

If you're a prisoner, why would your captor make sure you were safely tied up for no injury...?

And finally, the room you find yourself in is not your typical prisoner cell or torture room. The walls and floor are pristine, no remnants of blood, no corpses left to rot. The smell of calming perfume tickles your nose. A fireplace, a genuine hearth like you've only seen in the Roundtable Hold, sits in the corner and cackles with flame. Everything is bathed in warm golden light and despite your nakedness you don't feel cold. Just pleasantly cool.

It would be enough to lull you into a false sense of security were it not for the objects lining the walls. Shadows from the fire dance and twist their shape, and fear pools like ice in your belly as you stare at what looks like instruments of torture. 

Some you recognize immediately. A wooden paddle, a leather whip and flock. Different types of shackles for your captor (and now torturer, you're certain) to move you into different positions and shapes. Some of the objects are just...so odd looking.

Some look...you blush and chastise yourself for thinking something so lewd, but they look...phallic? 

Rising panic makes you yank at your bonds with more force, and you cringe at the loud clatter of leather and metal against wood. You need to get away, you need to get out of here- 

The creak of a door opening behind you makes you freeze. Muscles tense and heartbeat in your throat, you crane your neck to look over your shoulder.

Margit the Fell stands, his arms folded across his chest. If you weren't so terrified you would have admired the flex of his muscles, the way his thick pectorals are pushed together by his strong arms. His golden gaze looks heated in the glow of the fire.

"M-Margit?" You whimper. "Please...please whatever you have planned, please don't do it, I swear I-"

"Quite a lovely sight, little Tarnished. A wonder thou does not walk around the Lands Between in such a state." He cuts you off, as if he doesn't even hear your pathetic pleas.

"W-wha-?" Your eyes dart down, and in reflex you try to clamp your thighs closed, only now realizing that with your tied position, everything is on display to the Omen.

Your shackles clatter and hold tight, keeping your legs forced open. You squeal in mortification, tears pricking your eyes at being in such an embarrassing position.

"Calm thyself, Tarnished. I took great care in choosing bonds that would not hurt thee, but too much struggle and thee may do so anyways."

You bow your head, wishing that you could simply disappear. 

He can see. 

He can see your shame, your lewdness. See how wet you are from simply being tied up.

You can't let him know, you can't-!

How did he even know!? How did he know that you would be in the castle? That you fantasized about this exact scenario on your journey through the land? Was he watching you the whole time?

Did he...did he see you at night? Hiding away in your camp near Grace, whispering his name and plunging your fingers into your dripping cunt? 

What would he do with you now? You were helpless, tied down with your only exit being blocked by the very being making your most shameful fantasies a reality.

"I-I don't know what you want with me-please-!"

"Tis no use little Tarnished. I can smell thee." Your neck snaps up, trying in vain to face him again. "...Yes, I can smell thy scent, that sweet coiling spice of heat and arousal..." 

"N-no-!" You whimper, wiggling against the table as molten heat, the kind he smells you now know, pooling in your lower belly. You can feel your cunt leak at his words, at the sound of his lower timbre of a voice.

He laughs at you, a deep chuckle that you can feel vibrate through you to your very core. It makes your opening clench, and you bite your lip hard to keep from making more noise.

The heavy thud of his feet along the stone floor echoes in your ears. With no warning, massive scarred hands grip your thighs, the curve of your ass resting just above them. You squeak in shock at his touch, jerking your hips forward out of instinct.

"Don't move away from me, Tarnished." He growls. 

"P-please-" He ignores you. You feel his thumbs, each one longer than your palm and as thick as two of your own fingers, pull at you drooling slit.

Your lips open to him, muscles clenching and winking at him as you bury your face against the table and squeal. Your cream beads from your opening, making the skin shine with arousal, all for him to see.

"Ahh, such a lewd sight. A beautiful cunt thou has, my little Tarnished. Tight and wet. Desperate for a cock to fill it, hmm?" You don't say anything, not trusting your voice to work how you want it to.

Embarrassed beyond belief you jerk again, pulling your hips away from him. Immediately you know this was the wrong move. Margit huffs in frustration, his hands falling away from your skin.

"Tis thy wish to be difficult, hmm?" He growls, moving away from the rack. You peek up from the wood to watch him as he goes towards the many shelves holding the various devices you can't even imagine the use of. He goes for something simple, a durable leather flogger. 

You tense up again, eyes wide. He won't possibly-!

"Wait! Please, Margit I'll do whatever you ask, p-please not this-!"

"Silence. Or thee shall wear a gag the rest of the night." His eye pins you, and you whimper once more. "I would rather not have to use it. I want to hear thee scream my name by the end of the night."

Resigned to your fate, you give up. There is no changing his mind. He plans to use you, to play with you, to break you.

Make you his. 

And trying to fight it would be pointless.

"Now, thy squirming is adorable, but not when thy goal is to pull away from me. Punishment is needed for thee to learn thy proper place." You tense as he walks behind you once more, and flinch hard at the feel of the flogger gently laid against your backside. He simply lets it drape over you, again and again until your muscles relax on instinct at the feel of the leather.

"What should thy punishment be? Tis a first time offense against your Master, I understand that thee must learn first. We shall start small." His free hand joins the flogger on your ass, fingers gripping the flesh of your cheek hard.

"We shall go to ten. Thou shall count every strike, is this understood?" You tremble, nodding your head.

"Y-yes Sir...c-count to ten..." You whisper. 

"Good." He purrs.

And the first strike hits. 

You cry out, body tensing up all over again as pain ripples through the soft flesh of your ass. Your back arches, trying to pull away even knowing it would be useless. The entire right side of your ass feels like it's on fire. 

You fucking love it.

He switches the flogger to his other hand, using his right to grab the stinging flesh of your right cheek. Large fingers massage the area, diluting the pain and making your muscles unclench once again.

"O-o-one..." You croak.

The second strike somehow feels worse. Right against your left cheek, the flogger strikes true, and heat spreads to match the intensity you feel in the right side of your ass. You jump hard again, body rocking back and forth as it tries to make sense of this painful pleasure combo it's been hit with. As Margit's hand massages the area, your own hands turn and grip at your leather cuffs, pulling at the bindings for some sort of stability. 

"Tttt-two-!"

When the third hit strikes your right cheek, you scream.

"FFFF-FUCK-! T-THREE-!" Your voice sounds distant to your own ears, the blood pumping through your system making everything feel both heightened and dull.

You can feel your cunt clenching rapidly on nothing but empty air, slick gushing out of you and coating your thighs. You need...you need something, anything. Anything that the Omen behind you will give to you.

"Good job little Tarnished, thee are doing very well..." His voice rumbles. A burst of smug pride and bliss spreads through your whole body at his words.

Yes, you are doing good. You're taking Master's punishment and doing exactly as he commands...what a good pet you are~

Another strike of the flogger against your abused skin.

"G-grace give me str-streng...Fff-four..."

Margit rubs soothing circles into the flesh again, watching as you go lax to his touch. Your skin is already hot to the touch, welts forming over your skin. 

His cock is aching between his legs. It has already slipped out of his sheathe, the head leaking precum into a pool on the table between your feet. His knot was still tucked snuggly away inside, not yet swollen enough to come out. 

He wanted to see your ass ruined, the skin tender and sore as he rubbed his cock in between the meaty flesh before pounding away at your cunt. To hear you cry for him as his cock stretched you open and his hips slapped against your abused skin.

He needed to move this along.

You were starting to relax fully at his gentle touch, the sting in your butt slowly fading away. And suddenly in quick succession, two strikes hit you at the same time.

Your back arched again and you threw your head back, staring wide eyed at the ceiling in a silent scream as searing pain blossomed into hot pleasure that shot straight to your cunt. It spasmed hard, a gush of cream squirting out and soaking your legs and Margit's hips. 

You weren't sure if you just came, you didn't know. You could feel the release of tension from your pussy, waves of pleasure rolling over you from head to toe, but the heat in your belly remained. 

The need to feel something more was still there. 

The flogger was laid down next to you, both the Omen's hands kneading and massaging your abused ass this time.

"Nngghhh-fuhhh-fuck-...Fffive and...and s-sssix..."

You fell limp against the rack, tears in your eyes as your overstimulated body finally gave out. You let your tears fall, unashamed as your body squirmed and wiggled. You didn't know what you needed anymore, a rest? A cock, to be bred by your Omen Master? Did it even matter? 

What did anything matter when Master was here for you? He knew what you needed, he would take care of you.

"P-pleasssse...Master I...I need-..." You needed him, anything from him. His words were as soothing as his touch.

"Yes my little one, I know. First thee must finish the punishment. It shall be over soon, dear one. Just four more." 

You gave a choked sob. You didn't want to do four more! You wanted it to be over, you wanted him-!

"Thou is doing such a good job...such a good little pet for me." You heaved and panted, taking solace in that you were being good. You didn't want to do it, but you could. Your Master knew you could.

His hands moved lower towards your lips, spreading them once more to watch you unabashedly.

"Fuck...look at this pretty little cunt, pulsing for me...so wet." You heard him say as a single finger dipped into you. It didn't even press against your opening or your engorged clit before it was gone again, a sticky trail of moisture connecting it to you. The trail snapped under its own weight, the slick falling back onto your trembling thighs.

You heard Margit suck on his finger, tasting your cream on his tongue. You hoped he liked it.

"Let us continue."

The flogger was picked back up, the threads of leather trailing on the table in the corner of your eye. You took a deep breath, bowing your head and presenting your sore ass for more punishment. 

A strike on your right cheek, a cry from you. Tears leaked down your face as more pain bloomed under your skin. 

"S-seve-!" Your count is cut off as another strike makes its mark, and your body convulses. Your hips wiggle and hump empty air, your lungs feel empty as you try to breathe. 

"FFF-FUH-Fuuuckk...please, please, pleasepleaseplease-" You beg, unsure what you're asking for at this point. All you know is that you need this.

"What is our count little one?" Margit growls, his hands already kneading your flesh. You give a choked cry in response. 

"Tell me. Otherwise we shall have no choice but to start over." The threat has you shuddering and crying again and you force yourself to mumble with some coherency.

"Sevvven...a-ah-ahnd...e-eight...ooohh fuuhcck..." 

"Hmmm, good. We are on our last two little Tarnished." You feel his body press against you, his towering form easily able to press against the entirety of your back and bring his lips to your ear.

His hot breath fans against your skin, and you're overwhelmed with the urge to feel his tongue shoved forcefully down your throat. You can feel his cock, hard as steel pressing against you, his hips pushing burning pressure against your ass.

"Count these last two...and thy punishment is over..." He purrs, nipping your earlobe. You give a broken sob, tears running down to your neck.

You can't take two more...you can't. Your ass feels broken and sore, the skin burning like hot coals were under your skin. Your cunt felt so empty, you just wanted this to be over-!

Margit pulled away from you, standing to his full height once more. His hands give two quick gentle pats against your ass that has you squeaking in protest.

Not that it will earn you a break. The end of your punishment is here.

With a resounding 'WHACK' two more strikes are dealt to your bruising skin. You scream loud enough that if anyone is in the halls of wherever you're being held, they surely would have heard. Your hips buck and thrash as your skin throbs in time with your heartbeat. 

You look a mess, tears staining your cheeks as bruises stain the lower ones. Your thighs are coated in slick, your pussy throbbing for any kind of stimulation as the pain slowly fades and leaves pleasurable heat behind. 

You give a shuddering gasp when air finally returns to you, dropping your head against the wooden table below you as your muscles all go slack. 

"Nnnn-nine...t...ten..." 

Margit gives a low groan in his chest at the sight of you, his cock twitching. He doesn't give you a moment of reprieve, simply climbing up and settling himself down against your thighs. You don't protest or try to pull away from him, from your kidnapper, only laying still and watching him over your shoulder with hooded, tear filled eyes. 

He grabs his dick, pushing the head down towards your puffy pussy and pressing insistently against the tight hole.

"This will be a tight fit for thee...but I know my little Tarnished whore can handle it~" He smirks, meeting your gaze as he pushes inside. He wants to watch you as he breaks your cunt on his cock.

He watches as your eyes widen and roll to the back of your skull, your jaw dropping open in a silent cry. He bites his bottom lip, endeared by your cute reaction to taking him fully.

With the head snug inside he removes his hand, placing both on opposite sides of you to hold his weight. He shifts to be more comfortable above you before sinking further inside. You give the most adorable mewl at the feeling, your cunt giving a wet 'squelch' as he pushes deeper.

"I-ooohh fuhhck...sss-so deep...b-breaking me-" You gasp, your arms pulling futilely at your cuffs.

"Yes, that's right...this is my cunt now. Mine to use and break how I see fit...no one else." He growls.

You can feel him stretch you open, your muscles lax and sensitive as his fat cock pushes forcefully through. Your gummy walls spread until they can't any more, until his cock goes as deep as it can.

"Margiii-it...my-my womb-your cock is-! Fucking g-!" You can only squeal as he finally stops, his hips resting against your abused ass. His balls, swollen with cum and desperate for release, rest against your pussy, pushing against your blood engorged clit that hasn't gotten any attention this whole time.

He simply sits there for a moment, enjoying the way you pulse against him, the cute noises you keep making.

"Yes little Tarnished, tell me. Tell the world whose cock it is stretching thee so well...who thou belongs to..." His hands move to your back, massaging and pressing against the tense muscles. 

"Yes!! Yes-it's yooouuu-! Fuck, it's Margit the F-Fell Omen inside me! S-stretching my p-pussy so faarrr-!" You cry, shuddering.

A sudden wave of pleasure washes over you as you scream those words, bliss overtaking your mind. Your cunt squeezes down hard like a vice as you finally cum. You shake and shudder on his cock, drooling all over yourself as the intense pleasure makes you cry more.

"Fuck, there it is...My little one cumming for thy new Master...So good for me..." He moans. With sudden speed your body is not prepared for, Margit pulls out of your welcoming heat.

He thrusts back in immediately, setting a harsh and brutal pace that knocks the air from your lungs. Your pussy isn't able to keep up, just keeping a tight grip on the fat cock breeding it as wave of bliss after wave of bliss washes over you. Your first orgasm never truly ends…Or it does and is immediately followed by another one, your mind is too blank to tell. Your toes curl and your back arches to keep your ass up and open for the pounding you receive.

Your ass stings with every thrust, sharp jolts of pain that mingle with the pleasure you feel. Margit's fat sack slaps against your clit with every thrust. Your body is trapped in an endless loop of pleasure. You can't do anything except lay there and accept that this is your place now.

Your mind slowly fades, washed away by pleasure and joy as you give everything up to your Master. 

Margit watches, entranced by your whimpers and tears as you take him, your body being molded to be his perfect little mate to breed and fill with his thick cum. 

He keeps thrusting, holding off on the urge to push his knot inside for as long as he can. He never wants this feeling to end. Your tight heat pulsing around him, opening up to him, welcoming him inside. 

His eye looks down at the hypnotic sight of his cock disappearing inside you. Puffy cunt lips spread wide and stands of sticky cream that break and conjoin with every one of his thrusts. His cock is coated in the stuff, the pink skin covered in creamy white with every thrust.

It's too much, his body feeling on edge after your punishment. He feels his knot grow, finally slipping out of his sheath to press against your too small hole. 

He'll make it fit.

His hands move down from your shoulders to your ass once more, thumbs hooking against your wet lips to spread them further. It gives him a wonderful view as his knot presses against you, being pushed back out from the tightness before finally-!

With a shuddering groan from deep in his chest, he watches as the knot slips past the tight ring of your cunt and inside. He bows over your prone form, teeth biting into the soft skin of your neck as his hips press deep inside.

Your only reaction is to coo and cum again, head laying limp against the wooden table as Margit takes what he needs from you.

Pump after pump of thick, creamy cum is unloaded inside you, filling your waiting and abused womb. A small bump immediately forms in your abdomen as you’re flooded full. You can feel the liquid slosh back towards your opening, trying to find a way out as you're filled to the absolute limit. Margit's knot does its job, keeping you plugged even as he absentmindedly grinds against your ass for more pleasure.

He's lost in his own mind, huffing and grunting above you, teeth still in your skin as his eye slips closed. It feels so good...pumping you full of his seed, making you his. 

You'll never belong to another. Never.

Your body is made for him, made for his cum, for his future pups, for wherever he needs. 

You let out one final moan of his name, a plea and a promise, before you fall completely limp against the rack, mind unconscious.

                                                 ~~~~~

When you come to, you're no longer in the cell. 

You lay on a soft luxurious bed, wrapped up in silk sheets. The curtains are drawn but the ever present glow of the Erdtree seeps through and gives the room a soft glow. 

Margit sits at his desk, bifocals on his nose as he looks over paperwork. At your shifting, he looks to you.

He smiles and stands, taking his bifocals off and laying them on his desk. He makes his way over to you, and grabs a glass of water off the nightstand you didn't notice.

"Drink. Ye need it." You do as he says, and find he's right. Your throat is sore and tender after all that screaming.

"Ye should have told me it was becoming too much. It was thou's idea to have a safe word for such situations." With a small cough, you clear your throat.

"Yes-...Hrmm, yes. But I didn't want you to stop, love. It was amazing~" You coo. You look at your wrists, and then show them to him.

"And look! No scrapes or cuts! I told you leather cuffs would work just fine!" You smile, taking his hand in yours. The Omen sighs through his nose, sitting down on the mattress next to you. His tail rises and falls in slight agitation, showing his anxious thoughts,

"I worry that I will hurt ye too much someday..." Your expression goes soft, and you bring his hand up to press a gentle kiss to his palm.

"I know you won't. That was wonderful and I loved every moment of it." He looks more reassured by your words, but the doubt is still there. You think for a moment before speaking.

"How about we talk a little more about this and I can tell you how much I loved it? We can have dinner here! I...can't exactly walk, heehee~" You giggle. Morgott smiles, a small quirk of his lips, and nods.

"I shall have the servants bring something up for ye."

"And you too! You need to eat with me." You insist. He pauses for a moment, then bows his head to you.

"Whatever my mate wishes."

[bathtubjohnny]

I’ve accidentally created the worst method of motivating myself to finish writing: Everytime I die in Elden Ring I write a minimum of at least one word.

Needless to say I finished an entire chapter in roughly ten minutes.

[quirkle2]

helplessly flailing around an arena while the boss beats u senseless is the elden way

[cozymerchant]

@krakenguard followed

"Ah--oh, hello, greetings, and warm salutations, traveler! Won't you come in from the rain? There is, ah," the merchant glances up through his mask at the gaping hole in the roof of his shack, "slightly less of it in here, and the fire blazes warm..." A soft, nervous giggle escapes him as his fingers point up and fidget about themselves before firmly settling on his instrument.

[death-envoy]

Oops I wrote a thing

[space-blue]

Good news for my Maliketh and Elden Ring followers (the 2 of you still here!) : I finally have Elden Ring!

Bad news for everyone else : I finally have Elden Ring!

[felifeltfrog]

Ngl The Last Wish really is a good introduction to the Witcher series, consider me hooked

[the-walrus-squad]

Any Writing Professor: Do not name any two characters with the same letter, it will confuse your audience.

George RR Martin and Hidetaka Miyazaki: This is Radagon, who married Rennala, mother of Ranni who likes to pose as Renna, enemy of Rykard and Radahn. He is really Marika, Maliketh's Goddess, mother to Morgott (AKA Margit) Mohg, Malenia mother of Millicent, Miquella, possibly Melina and now Messmer, and she had them after she raised Godwyn and Godefroy with Godfrey, from whom Godrick is descended.

[sahaquiel43]

[Elden Ring DLC spoilers] sir Ansbach, what an absolute CHAD.

[MAJOR SPOILERS]

.

]

one thing Shadow of the Erdtree did was write a delicuously hatable villians, and the assorted heroes to rally against it.

stayed loyal to the end to Mohg Mogh, pierced through Miquella's deception, and even challenged her, trying to Free Mohg from his Brainwashing.

he even forgives us for killing Mohg given the situation.

and he follows us in to fight against the god that ruined everything.

what would have made it even better is if Morgott, or at least using a margit projection, also went in to avenge his brother.

"Lord Mohg will have his Dignity".

damn that's a raw line. I used to actually dislike mohg, genuinely. I admittedly also disliked his fanbase that flanderized his gross actions. And even after this, it's a toxic blood cult, but taking Ansbach's actions alone.....PURE CHAD.

like his brother, the Omen twins deserved Better!

damn.

[moodymisty]

Just a few weeks ago I was fanrasizing about silly manwha style isekai ideas with the primarchs! Thought them to be too silly though. But going through the recent posts I'm happy I wasn't the only one.

Kind of started to thhink that weare developing some kind of wavelenght that influences all of us. Just not at the same speed😅

Current brainrot though is Guilliman with daughters. He has three, all grown up know, one loves battles -Margit - so she goes on crusades with his sons, the other more of a diplomat -Erzsébet - who's favourite hobby is to bully the high lords of terra and the third just loves paperwork -Ludivoka- and actually created a more advanced filing system and streamlined imperial administration.

For the first time in years he's starting to catch a break and due to the novelty of this, he's a bit in realising it's because his girls are actually competent (he's gotten too used to being the only one)

But then it clicks for him and instantly proceeds to hunt down Lady Guilliman (3rd daughter already knows the drill so no worries over paperwork piling up).

He's about to make more kids, breeding kink justified by empirical evidence activated.

The 4th daughter -Lukrécia- grows up with a passion for technology and invents the 40k equivalent of microsoft 365.

Lady Guilliman can be seen hightailing it towards a thunderhawk upon hearing the news. She won' t get far and at this point it's just drawn out foreplay.

My writing roots started in isekai fic (though that name wasn’t mainstream at the time) so I don’t think it’s embarrassing xD

And anything involving Guilliman being happy is good in my books ❤️

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Some random Six of Crows/Crooked Kingdom headcanons

Because I’m just feeling it, and why not?

1) After Alys gives birth, Wylan goes to visit her and meet his baby sibling, and Jesper goes with him. They arrive to find that the baby is in fact half-Kerch, half-Suli and Alys is borderline tearful about Wylan knowing this; Wylan is trying to convince her that he would never judge her for cheating on his father because of the situation she was in, and Jesper has doubled over laughing because this is the funniest thing he’s experienced in his life. Jesper begs to be allowed to tell Van Eck that the baby isn’t his. As the kiddo grows up Wylan still acts as a brotherly figure, he visits at least twice a month and brings them the best presents, and he also gives great advice. His boyfriend gives less great advice that the kiddo has to be steered away from.

2) Ok I’m not sure if this one counts as a headcanon because I don’t actually remember the details of how this would fit in with the timeline between crooked kingdom and king of scars, but I have this idea of Nina going back to the Little Palace and Zoya and Genya being seriously concerned about her and originally not letting her go to Fjerda because she’s emotionally unstable, vulnerable, and (because of her death-related powers) having auditory and visual hallucinations of Matthias. Obviously we see her talk to Matthias in her head in King of Scars, basically I’ve been wondering what if that was the most controlled version and before that she would often fall into hallucinations where he was present or even to the extreme of forgetting he was dead until suddenly remembering what happened and continually reliving her pain. For example, waking up in the morning convinced he’s in the other side of the bed; she has a conversation with him, they tease each other, then she rolls over to kiss him and the bed is empty. I’ve actually been thinking about maybe writing a little fic of this so lemme know if you’d like it, I know there are fellow Helnik-angst fans out there.

3) Cornelius Smeet’s wife is brunette and nothing short of a counter argument from the queen Leigh Bardugo herself will ever change my mind.

4) When Inej starts going after slavers, she builds herself up before taking down Heleen but she doesn’t have an attitude of ‘leaving her until last’ because she’s seen what that’s done to Kaz. She knows that Kaz will never have the satisfaction he’s searching for - I could write essays, he’s in many ways an addict - and so instead of finding the individuals who hurt her and taking them down one by one until only Heleen remains, as Kaz has done by murdering the boy who acted as the roper and by the implied murder of Saskia and Margit as well as many others, Inej doesn’t focus her efforts on directly tracking down the people who hurt her individually. Her focus is far more in the individuals who are being hurt right now. She will go after Heleen when she is good and ready, but it will be by no means the last act she takes in her journey because the purpose of this journey is not revenge on Heleen; the purpose is the act of taking the journey as her healing process and saving not only the thousands of children being hurt right now, but the thousands more that would continue to be hurt by the people she takes down for so long.

[magpie-come-east]

I'm gonna be annoying and ask about Aster too. So much about him seems left unsaid and I want to put him in a petri dish

favorite thing about them

It tickles me so much that people really like him. People tell me they like Cyrielle, but it hits so much harder in a good way when people say they love Aster. It's hard to get people invested in OCs- particularly OCs that aren’t there as vehicles to smooch the blorbo- so it makes me feel like I did a good job writing him!

He's kinda the most delightfully quirky character I've ever written. His seething yet outwardly jovial rage is so fun. He's toxic and he knows it.

least favorite thing about them

Much like Cyrielle, I wish I had cared more about his backstory as I was writing him. I wish I had fleshed him out more to make his sudden turn from Ranni's chosen Lord of Lord of Frenzied Flame more organic and clearer.

In fact, since he wasn't the POV character in Gilded Apotheosis- and was pretty much actively getting amnesia in HSPS- I also didn't get much oppertunity to showcase Aster, Ranni, and Blaidd's relationship. Apart from a few vital scenes.

favorite line

This one is hard again! Because I think he shines best in banter and dialogue. He doesn't have a ton of stand-alone banger lines.

This may be cheating. It's not dialogue but it is a thought in his POV:

'Nice girls. He hoped he never saw them again.'

Like it's so encapsulating of who he is at the end of HSPS. He's healing. He's lonely. He's still kind of a dick. But lovable for it.

'The mimic’s hands rose, but did not grasp Aster’s staff or sword. Not even the seal that he kept clipped to his belt. Instead, both hands began to flash a series of gestures ranging from rude to obscene. Brief periods of silent laughter sandwiched between each.'

I just love him

“You know that the Grace-Given Lord is Margit, right?”

Finally an actual quote. This one's just iconic. Please tell that 9 INT woman the truth about her Lord, sir. Just casually drop that in her lap.

brOTP

Aster x Cyrielle. This one I expanded on in the Cyrielle answer to this meme.

Ranni x Aster

Yeah, they're technically married, but they never romantically loved one another. Nonetheless, Ranni's deeply loving nature really stands out in their relationship. Again, it's sad I couldn't show more of Ranni and Aster's relationship. But one of the factors that led to Aster taking on the FF was him learning that Ranni was going to go to the stars without him. In her mind, this was a mercy. To him, it felt like abandonment of the one person that cared for him just as he was. Eccentric warts and all.

OTP

Varre x Aster

I loved that toxic middle-aged yaoi. Reading that third chapter of HSPS still hits so good. If only Aster's brain wasn't literally being melted and if only Varre hadn't been seduced away by Mohg's magnificent breasts! Sad!

nOTP

Aster x Cyrielle - same as before. But really I don't have an intense nOTP otherwise.

random headcanon

If I could go back and add to his backstory, I would expound on his origins. When Godfrey's Tarnished spread out in the lands beyond the Lands Between, Aster's homeland was conquered- or at least menaced- by the marauding, displaced bands. Aster was born of a Lands Between exile and a woman indigenous to the land. But it was not a union made of love. Aster's mother was more or less taken in the conquest. I think this would better explain his general resentment of the Lands Between and the Greater Will- as well as his upset of himself being revived as a Tarnished, too.

unpopular opinion

He's an OC. I don't think there is an unpopular opinion!

song i associate with them

Kingslayer by Bring Me The Horizon!! (Love this one)

The Man Who Sold the World - Midge Ure

Camel by Camel (flashing lights) (youtube.com) <- This thing

favorite picture of them

Rennala's cutscene never disappoints. I love my miserable balding king.